


More Every Day

by wytch



Category: Peaky Blinders
Genre: Angst, Antisemitism, Arranged Marriage, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Time, Fluff, My First AO3 Post, Period Typical Attitudes, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Sexism, Slow Burn, Smut, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-09-25 22:09:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 55,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17129630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wytch/pseuds/wytch
Summary: Eliza Fishers world is turned on it’s head when her father is called upon to replay his debts to gang leader Alfie Solomons. Rushed into marriage with a man she doesn’t know, Eliza must learn to navigate not only the waters of marriage, but the rough waves of a life of crime.





	1. More Every Day

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! This is my first work i’ve ever posted, so thanks for giving it a look!! I’ve been reading lots of other Alfie stories and decided to try my hand at one! Please let me know what you think, constructive criticism is much appreciated! I hope to post fairly regualarly and have tons of chapters.  
> Also, most of my writing is done on my phone, so please forgive grammatical errors, spelling errors, etc. I proof read but we’re all human right?  
> 

Serena, your older sister met her husband while working for a company of accountants. It was a typical love story as the rest of the ones you grew up around. They met in a somewhat serendipitous way and Serena gushed about Edward from the moment they met, all the way until she confided in you that it has been some time since she bled. Of course before anyone else found out about her state, Edward proposed and they moved into a flat together across the street from your family home and business.  
Once the baby came you saw Serena a lot less and each time you saw Edward he had a drink in hand. Serena was 22 when she gave birth to Charles, you 18 when you first become an aunt. It was at this age you promised yourself you would not concern yourself with men or children or getting married.  
You felt fulfilled enough, spending the week days with Charles while your sister worked as a seamstress and Edward worked at his office. For the past two years your nephew was your pride and joy, and with the help of your mother while your father worked downstairs in your family jewelry shop, it really was a treat to have him.  
The jewelry shop wasn’t anything too fancy, it carried small handmade one of a kind simple metalwork jewelry that an average man could afford to buy his wife. Your father and his apprentice made everything they sold, and were good at it as well. You always wore a dainty silver necklace with a circle pendant no bigger than a shilling that your father made for you on your 13th birthday. On one side was a small crescent moon and stars with your name, Eliza, in tiny scroll letters, etched onto the smooth surface. The other side read “More every day,” a saying in your family which carried the same meaning a as “i love you” to most others. Your father always told you mother he loved her “more every day”. You had actually never heard him simply say i love you to her, or you and your sisters, it was always, always “I love you more every day.”  
Your sister wore a matching one, except where your name was, hers read Serena next to a bird in a nest, where your moon and stars would be. Neither of you ever went a day without wearing them.  
Your family met the world to you. Your parents fosters red your love for painting and writing from a young age, never stifling a creative urge. Art supplies came readily and while your family was far from affluent, you never struggled to have exactly what you needed to create and survive. There was always food on the table and a roof over your head, and new canvases outside your bedroom door when your father noticed you getting low.  
You had wondered when your father hired your dearest friend, and neighbor, Joseph to be his apprentice, if the new salary to pay would cause your family to be more frugal, but the change never came.  
You sold your paintings in your father's shop along with his jewelry, it was the trade, if he let you display your work there, you gave him a few hours of your week working the counter. It really didn’t bother you. Often times during your shifts your father would move to the back of the store to work on a custom piece someone ordered, leaving you and Joseph in the front.  
Joseph and you had been close your entire 20 years of existence, growing up next door to one another as well as your families close relationship meant you were always around each other. Both of your families were Jewish, most families in Camden Town were, but your families did all of their worship together, shabbat, holidays, you name it. You and Joseph attended the same schools and had the same friends, it wasn’t difficult to say you were pretty much inseparable.  
Joseph was attractive of course. You watched him grow into a handsome young man, he was tall, brunette, well built from honest work and had sparkling green eyes outlined by long dark lashes. Most women who came into the shop bought whatever Joseph showed them. His face was a hard one to say no to.  
Though Joseph would argue that of yours, and you had argued. You had your mother’s small button nose, your fathers dark brown eyes and curly brown hair. You consider yourself average, no more beautiful than those women swooning over Joseph’s kind words and beautiful bone structure.  
It was working one of these shifts with Joseph when, unknown to you, your future stepped through the door into the shop, a bell ringing to announce his arrival. You Were leaning against the counter taking to Joseph as he boxed up a ring, which was set to be picked up later that day, when your attention was deferred to the new arrival.  
Usually men like him caused your gaze to fall immediately to the floor. He was big, not particularly tall, but well built, his broad shoulders and strong jaw were each set to convey power and authority. He used a cane, but weak would never be used to describe him. His callused hands were adorned with beautiful rings, and around his neck hung a pair of bifocals, hand crafted by the look of them. He wore a wide brim hat matched perfectly to his three piece suit and sported a well maintained beard and mustache, the latter reminding you of the older men you saw at temple sometimes.  
His gaze shifted to meet yours and you froze. While a few more men shuffle in behind him, you take a moment to look back before letting your eyes shift downward. A warmth had grown in your belly, just slightly, but it was there. He put it there, you think to yourself suddenly, shaking your head slightly to rid yourself of the unwanted thought.  
Your attention shifts again as your father comes in a rush to the front of the shop, bursting through the curtain which separates the two areas. It is now that you noticed Joseph had moved his body between yours and the mans, even though you were clear across a room from one another, as well as separated by the counter you stood at.  
“Mr.Solomons, we weren’t expecting you, please forgive me.” Your father says coming around the counter and extending a hand to the man to shake.  
He accepts it with a small and clearly forced smile as they shake. “All is forgiven.” He states in a deep voice which only causes the warmth to spread up to your cheeks. You notice his gaze leave your father as they release hands, it moves to you for a moment, but only long enough to notice the blush on your cheeks.  
“Please, back right this way,” your father says leading the men toward the back of the store. Joseph shifts again to keep himself between you and the men, but you can’t help but step forward as they come nearer.  
Your father stops in front of you and Joseph a moment. “Why don’t you head up to your mother Eliza, and Joseph why don’t you head home early for the day. I’ll lock up here.” Both you a Joseph nod and remain silent.  
With Mr. Solomons so close to you now, you notice your heart rate pick up and hope to yourself it’s only fear causing the change.  
Joseph grabs his things and leaves his apron on the counter while you move to place a kiss on your fathers cheek, “See you at home,” you say softly, letting your gaze shift once more to Mr. Solomons, only to find his eyes fixed on you. A moment later your father, Mr. Solomons, and the men accompanying them disappear behind the curtain.  
You hurry outside with Joseph, following him to his front door. “Who was that?” you ask, trying to seem simply curious.  
Joseph laughs and glances at you, then he realizes you don’t actually know. “Alfie Solomons, you know, the gang leader. He runs Camden, you know.”  
You find yourself frozen again. “He’s real? I thought he was a joke, a myth.”  
Joseph laughs, “Of course he is, did you think everyone was foolin on you?”  
“No,” you begin, your blush returning. “I just thought he was like the king, more of a presence than an actual person.”  
Joseph laughs again as you follow him into his family home. “Didn’t your dad tell you to go home?” His cheeky smile holds the teasing sure to come if you spend a moment longer with him.  
“Yes, and that’s where i’m headed, I just wanted my question answered is all.” You turn on your heel and make for the door, but just before you reach it Joseph grabs your hand.  
“Stay away from him please,” You look into Joseph’s eyes at the strange request and see a sentiment you hadn’t seen from him before. “Let your father handle it. Promise me.”  
“I’ll let father handle it.” You promise before patting Joseph’s hand and walking out the door.  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
Your father was only in the shop with Mr. Solomons an hour before he made his way up to your home. When he came into the kitchen to find you and your mother side by side at the counter kneading dough, he seemed as though he carried a heavy weight. You turned and watched as he pulled a chair away from the table and took a seat.  
He let out a great sigh, closed his eyes and allowed his head to hang back a moment. You and your mother new better than to pester him for information the second he came through the door. You remained quietly attending to your breads as you waited for your father to collect his thoughts.  
“Mr. Solomons paid us a visit today.” He said simply.  
Your mother stops abruptly and turns to face your father.  
“Here?” she asks, her voice rich with concern. You look over and see her eyes dart from you back to your father, her grey curls bouncing around her face and she turns toward your father. “What did he want?”  
“He came to collect.” Your father sits up a bit, looking at your mother first, pain in his eyes. “But o’course the conditions ‘ave changed.”  
Your mother's hand moves from the hem of her apron to the edge of the counter, seemingly the only thing holding her up. “Changed to?”  
“What do you think Rachel?” The anger in your father's voice takes you by surprise. He sees the shock in your faces and apologizes. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to be so quick to anger.”  
Your mother moves across the kitchen to sit in a chair next to your father. You watch as she places a hand over his on the table, which he squeezes softly and brings up to his lips. He kisses her hand softly and pulls her to stand and embraces her tightly. He opens an arm out to request you join the embrace.  
While you’re confused as to why a somber air had set into your house, you join the embrace and feel your father place a soft kiss on the crown of your head.  
After a moment you each step back and you finally ask, “Papa, what conditions?”  
“Take a seat me girl,” he begins, ushering you into a seat between he and your mother. “When you were younger we didn’t have the jewelry store remember? You couldn’ta been older than five or six, I worked in a bakery, a bakery which young Mr. Solomons owned. But you girls got older and so did I, bakin’ wasn’t for me anymore. Mr. Solomons saw this and offered me a deal. He would finance my dream, a jewelry store and a home for me family where i would never need to worry about losing. This came with terms o’course. Some decided then, others to be determined as needs change. So i agreed and we opened the shop. I know you are aware of Mr. Solomons reputation, and i want you to know it was not easy for me. I would never have put you or your sister or mother in the way of danger, I still would not.” Your father shifted in his chair. “All i did was fudge some numbers. I added a zero here or there to help Mr. Solomons move some money. I make him the jewelry he wants when he wants it. Then it became storing and keeping precious stones. Alcohol. Stolen stones. Stolen money. Stolen art even. That’s all it was ever supposed to be. An easy way for Mr. Solomons to keep things hidden. The only people who know of my agreement with Mr. Solomons came into the store today, save your mother of course.” He glanced at your mother and you now noticed the tears in her eyes. 

“He hasn’t visited for quite some time. I see mostly Ollie, his assistant. What i do for ‘im is important, but discretion is key. You see, Mr.Solomons holds our family in his hand, all he must do is squeeze and we’re done, but he is a reasonable man, Eliza. He can be reasoned with most of the time. It was never supposed to be you. You’re much too young. I was just supposed to find a woman eventually. It has been so long since I’ve even thought about this part of the deal Eliza, I thought we had both forgotten, I stopped looking, I got comfortable.”  
Your brows have set together and you lean forward in your chair. “What do you mean papa?” you ask, hoping you were hearing this wrong.  
“I should have had you stay home today, maybe if he hadn’t of seen you, he would have forgotten I even have daughters, but he saw you. And he chose you.”  
“For what papa?” You notice your hands are shaking now, one has somehow made its way into your mother’s who was letting her tears stream silently down her face. “Mama?”  
“He intends to make you his wife. He claims it will strengthen Camden’s standing and make all of our lives easier. He said he needs someone from good jewish stock and since I have been so loyal to him and our community, that i must have raised me own to exhibit such strength and respect. He needs a wife to attend charity dinners and visit orphanages on his behalf. He needs someone to show these other men of power his stability, his commitment to the life he’s chosen.”  
You let you lids fall and focus on your shaky breathing. There was a feeling in your chest which you had only felt once before, when Serena told you she was with child. It was like your airway had crumbled under the pressure of a life taken from you, but this time it was yours. But what could you do about it? This man had assured the life you lived thus far, kept you fed and clothed and most importantly allowed your parents a life most other families in the community did not live.  
“I understand.” You say softly. “We make sacrifices for our family and do the best we can.” Reaching across the table you take hold of your fathers hand, you watch as his thumb instinctively begins passing back and forth over your skin.  
“If there was any other way Eliza, I would take it. Mr. Solomons said the situation ain’t ideal for him either. I assume there are pressures outside of what we know forcing his hand.”  
“When?” You ask, your attention still focused on your joined hands.  
“We have two days to collect your things. You will be moving into his home Saturday morning. He will send men to move your things. You’re expected there by noon.” Your father pauses and gives you hand a gentle squeeze, bringing your eyes up to meet his you notice they have developed a similar sheen to your mother’s teary eyes. His eyes flash over to your mother and you see the pain in his eyes grow. “He wants to meet you tonight, to answer your questions and discuss… the fine print.” Your father remarks gruffly not meeting you or your mother’s eyes, his tone telling you exactly what he meant by ‘fine print.’ Had it not been for the seriousness of the issue your face would have been as bright red as it was anytime such things were spoken of, but now there was no such familiar warmth in your cheeks.  
“He will be here at seven. He said to dress nice, he’s taking you to a club. Says it’s important for you to be seen with him in such a capacity before the coming events.” You glanced up at the clock on the wall to discover you had only an hour and a half before he arrived.  
“I’ll help you get ready sweetheart.” Your mother’s voice cracks as she speaks. You can head in her voice the strength she musters to speak at all. “You can wear my lilac dress, c’mon.”  
The three of you stand, and as your mother makes her way out of the kitchen you throw yourself into your father’s arms and squeeze him tightly. “I won’t let you down.” You speak softly against his chest.  
“You never could darling.”


	2. To The Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliza spends some one on one time with Mr. Solomons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have the first few chapters written so I figure that I would give y’all the first two at the same time! Enjoy!

Of course you had day-dreamed about getting ready to go out with boys like any other girl you knew, but never had you thought it would carry the weight it did now. You changed into your mother’s favorite dress. She hadn’t worn it since she was a girl as is didn’t fit her once she had children, but she always kept it just in case. It wasn’t anything too fancy, a simple lilac colored satin skirt that ended at your ankles and a satin and lace layered bodice with short lace oversized bell sleeves that ended just above your elbows and flowed around your arms with each movement you made.   
You kept your usual necklace on and borrowed a pair of your mother’s small silver rose earrings your father had made her. You owned only one pair of kitten heels, they were black and had only been worn to the few weddings and holiday celebrations which called for such formality.   
As you finish twisting your long curls into an updo held in place by two long pins, your mother comes back into your room with a small cloth in hand. She pulls a chair over to the vanity you sit at and place the rolled up cloth in front of you. “Open it,” she gestures.   
Unrolling the cloth you find a small silver knife and thin leather thigh holster. You pull the knife from its sheath connected to the leather strap and turn it over in your hand.   
“It was mine when I first moved to London. My mother gave it to me to protect myself. Your father tells me Mr. Solomons will be a good man to you, but a woman can never be too careful.” She pauses as you turn toward her. “I never had to use it, and I hope you never will either, but I cant send you out there without backup.”   
“Thanks mama,” you say softly, reaching over and giving her hand a squeeze. The two of you stand and she helps you secure the strap around your upper right thigh, the bump from the blade getting lost in the folds of your skirt.   
Just as you finish getting ready you hear a knock at the door below. A moment later your father appears in your doorway. “He’s here.”   
After quick embraces with each of your parents you make your way downstairs unaccompanied. Standing at the door, looking at a portrait of your family on the wall, is Mr. Solomons. He wore the same long coat as before but the suit underneath was different, now a dark blue three piece suit with gold pocket watch chains crisscrossing his chest, complimenting the same bifocals from before. For some reason seeing that he had changed since you saw him earlier in the day was reassuring, but you quickly wrote it off, due to the setting for the evening.   
He turns to face you and extends his hand as he removes his hat, just as he had to your father. “I apologize for not introducing meself earlier. You can call me Alfie.” You place your hand in his and shake it softly.   
“Eliza.” Your voice shakes softly, and you let yourself meet his gaze, which to your dismay conveys no emotion at all.   
“Right,” he says replacing his hat, “We should be going.” He turns and opens the door, gesturing for you to step outside. Before you can even place a hand on the car door handle Alfie is there, opening that door as well.   
“Thank you,” you muster up as you step into the car and slide across the seats. Alfie Joins you in the cab of the car and the second the door shuts, the car moves into the street.   
The car ride is quick but quiet. Being in such close proximity with a man you knew so little about was stressful, not to mention that the man in question was the leader of the 4th largest gang in London. So you focus your attention on your breath. A trick your father taught you all those years ago when you first learned to shoot a gun. Those who have control of their breathing have control of their actions, you can hear his voice reminding you time and time again.   
Once you arrive at the club Alfie turns toward you in his seat. “You been to a club before?”   
You shake your head but remain silent.   
“You will never be unsafe here while you are with me. Not a person in this club would dare lay a finger on a guest of mine. I’m sure you’re a clever girl and from what I can tell your parents raised you with appropriate manners. These people in here ‘ave forgotten their manners, and well, aren’t as clever as you ‘r me, but you have no reason to be afraid of them.”   
You swallow hard and nod your head. Alfie helps you out of the car and into the building. The front door leads right into a small foyer connected to a long hallway filled with people. There was loud music, laughter and chatter bouncing around the air, people danced and ran past you. You followed Alfie down the long hallway, heads turning to look you up and down as you moved along. There was no need for anyone to whisper as they commented on your presence, they could have yelled and you wouldn’t have been able to hear them over the sound of music coming from the direction you were heading.   
The hallway led to a great room where the music was louder still and many more people were dancing. The left and right side of the room was lined with tables and to your immediate right was a long oak bar with shelves full of alcohol.  
On the stage with the band across the room from the hallway, stood the most beautiful woman you had ever seen. Her dark skin appeared to glow in the lights of the two grand chandeliers hanging from the ceilings. Her dress looked like it was made of diamonds and you could just make out the curves of her body through the sheer material that hung loosely around her form.   
You stopped dead in your tracks when she stepped up to the microphone in front of her and the first notes of a new song rang out into the room. You couldn’t take your eyes off her or hear anything going on around you. You were completely under her spell. Her voice ran thick like honey into your ears. A pressure against your lower back snapped your attention from the woman on stage to the man on your left.   
Alfies hand rests gently on the small of your back, he leans closer down toward you, “This way,” he says gruffly, “C’mon.” His hand moves from your back to your wrist, gently pulling you behind him. You pull your wrist from his grasp and he continues leading your through the crowd. You follow him to the back of the room, to the left of the stage, back to a winding staircase tucked into the wall.   
On the next floor was a long hallway way with only a couple doors along it. You passed one other pair who were quite intoxicated, stumbling down the hall hand in hand, singing along to the muffled music coming through the wall.   
The hall leads to a much quieter room, there's still people and music, but now you can hear yourself think. Along the back wall is a bar much like the one on the first floor, but you had never before seen the bottles the bartenders were pouring from before. While everything on the first floor was shiny and exciting, this level was much more refined. Classier, more expensive feeling, suddenly making your borrowed dress seem wrong. You follow Alfie past people sitting at tables sipping drinks and throwing their heads back in laughter. You arrive at a booth in the corner to the right of the bar.   
Alfie helps you out of your jacket before removing his own and hanging them on a coat rack near the wall. The moment you each take a seat a young man in a vest slides up to the table. “Your usual Mr. Solomons?”  
“Not this time Jeremiah,” Alfie grumbles. “A bottle of red, two glasses. Make it something nice.” The boy nods and leaves to the bar. A moment later he returns with an uncorked dark glass bottle and two glasses. The boy fills the glasses halfway, replaces the bottle on the table and leaves to help the next group who had just sat at a table a few feet away.   
“What do you know?” Alfie asks taking his glass in his hand and bringing it to his lips, though when he drinks you notice he barely lets any liquid into his mouth.   
You let your finger smooth over the base of your glass on the table while you collect your thoughts. “My father told me he used to work for you and you made a deal with him. Part of that deal was a wife,” you pause your eyes darting up to his, still emotionless, gaze. Though for some reason you don’t let your eyes fall back to your glass, you maintain eye contact as you continue. “The other part of the deal afforded me a comfortable life to live growing up. Allowed my father to pursue his dream, and let my mother raise my sister and I as she liked. I know I’m young, but I understand what my family owes to you, what I owe to you.”   
Alfie chuckles and you can’t help but let your surprise at the sound show. “What do you know about me darling,” he says smoothly, his laughter gone but a smirk remaining on his face.   
You feel yourself blushing at your mistake and you quickly put your glass to your lips, taking a sip to give yourself something to do. “I know you dabble in illegal activities,” you begin cautiously after you drink the bitter liquid. “I know you run a bakery that may or may not actually be a bakery, and I know you terrify my mother and anyone else i’ve ever heard speak of you, well except my father.”  
“You don’t think your father fears me?” Alfie asks, leaning forward over the table.   
“I’ve seen my father truly afraid only once before and while you certainly hold power over him, I think he respects you more than anything else.”  
“You’re like your father,” Alfie says, shifting back in his seat. “I can hear the honesty in your words.” You feel yourself blushing again and take another drink from your glass.   
“Allow me to be honest with you,” Alfie begins. “This situation we find ourselves was not one I ever planned on happening. There are forces greater than you ‘r I, Eliza, and these forces demand things of us even when we see no use for them.” You wince at his words, though you understand the dig wasn’t toward you. “They force our hand and we do what we can to appease them because that is life. Appeasing those with power over you, it is why each of us sits ‘ere now. We can struggle against these powers but it’s useless, so we must adapt and learn to use this to our advantage. I think our relationship could be advantageous, Eliza.”   
You sip your wine again, the tartness growing on you. “As I said before Mr. Solomons, I understand what I owe to you and I have no intention to fail in my new role. I don’t know much about the life you live, but I am willing to learn just as you were willing to trust my father. I would like to make one thing clear though, I have no intention to end my life outside of your world. I would like to be able to see my friends and family as I wish, this is my only request.”   
“Don’t call me Mr.Solomons. It’s Alfie to you.” He lifts his glass to his lips and takes a real drink this time. “I would never ask you to leave your family behind, they are a part of the business after all. That being said there is a level of confidentiality you must respect.”   
“Of course.” You say before finishing your glass. Alfie takes the wine bottle in his hand and reaches across the table to refill your glass, replacing the bottle when he’s done.   
“As this is not a traditional courting I have also taken measures to respect your parents wishes. You will ‘ave your own room and study in me home, and in time I hope it may become like a home for you as well. The business keeps me busy, I spend many nights in me office and travel frequently. I may not be home for days at a time. It is my hope that we will find a way to live together which benefits us equally.” Alfie shifts again and you watch as he carefully scans the room. After a moment he looks back at you and rests his strong forearms on the table. “We must be a united front when we are seen together. We must appear as a traditional man and wife, but when we are alone, there is no need for such performance.You are free to pursue others, whomever you choose, so long as it does not come to common knowledge.”  
You're shocked at how easily he addressed your greatest concern. He needn’t use a vulgar word or innuendo to get his point across. Some public intimacy would be required of course, but otherwise there was no need for physical affection. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in and gave a weak smile. “Thank you.”   
“Of course. I may have unconventional means of business, but I am not an unreasonable man, your father knows this.” Alfie finishes his first glass of wine in one last drink and refills his, reminding you of your glass.   
You take another drink and ask, “Was that my father's only request?”   
“Course not,” Alfie says, you watch as his eyes move to the necklace you wear, “He also requested your ability to see your family freely, as well as keeping your study stocked with whichever art supplies you find yourself needin’.”   
You nod and finish your second glass. Perhaps this arrangement would not be so bad. The biggest change would be where you slept and ate when you really thought about it. Though the man still scared you, you had found respect for his honesty in your discussion and were grateful he understood your position in the matter. You wouldn’t say you trusted him completely, after all the man was known for killing and stealing, but after tonight you were more willing to try.   
Just as Alfie goes to pour you another glass of wine, a man who couldn’t have been much older than yourself approaches your table in a hurry. Alfie turns to the boy, wine bottle still in hand, “What is it now, boy?” A vein of annoyance runs thick through his words.   
“Sorry sir but we ran into some trouble with a,” The boys eyes dart to yours before returning to Alfie. “With that bread delivery sir.”   
Alfie’s fist hits the tabletop in pure aggression, causing yourself, the boy and anyone else within earshot of your table to jump in their seat. Now you were afraid. You slowly let your eyes move from the boy to Alfie and immediately you decide that no emotion was better than anger. His face was as red as yours had been earlier, but his features were contorted in an expression of fury you hand never seen before. After a moment he released the wine bottle in his hand, letting clink as came in contact with the table.   
“ ‘Scuse me,” Alfie grumbles out looking back at you, finding your best attempt to hide your fear spread over your face. Your mind floated back to the knife against your upper thigh. “We had best be going.”   
You stand with Alfie, who, despite his current state, takes a moment to help you into your jacket. You thank him quietly while he pulls his long jacket on. He nods in your direction and begins walking out of the room. You and the boy follow quickly behind him and you notice how he now depends more on his cane than you had coming into the club.   
The boy turns and sticks his hand out to you. “Name’s Ollie, I’m Mr. Solomons assistant.”  
You take his hand and shake it quickly as you follow Alfie down the long hall leading to the staircase.   
“Eliza. Alfie’s,” you pause. Girlfriend? Wife? Prisoner? “Fiancée I think.”   
Ollie stops dead in his tracks. “What?”   
“Keep up boy!” Alfie hollers back as you follow him to descend the stairs. A moment later Ollie hurries back to your side.   
“Fiancée, sir?”   
“You don’t believe the misses?” Alfie barks as the music grows louder. You emerge on the first floor and follow closely behind Alfie, afraid to lose him in the crowd. “Did ya bring a car boy?” Alfie asks as doorman swings the large glass door open for the three of you.   
“No sir, I ran ‘ere, it was faster.”   
Alfie curses as the car you arrived in comes to a screeching stop before you. “Elise in, Ollie, you run back to the bakery, I will meet you there.” You move quickly into the car, Alfie right behind you. “Back to hers and then to the bakery.” Alfie barks at the driver, who pulls away from the curb and begins speeding down the road.   
You shift in your seat, a sense of relief washes over you as you realize you will be home soon. Your parents were probably up waiting for you. You had only been gone just over an hour, but given who you were with it must have felt like an eternity to them.   
Alfie grumbles, taking his pocket watch out and checking the time. He snaps it closed with a click and turns toward you. “I apologize for the abrupt end to the evenin’, but this is all part of the life. Never know when somethin’ might happen.”  
“Thank you for taking me out, I appreciate the kindness you have shown me tonight.” You say softly as the car continues careening down the road.   
“I will be sending some people by your house over the next couple days. If you are to be my wife you must dress and act in the ways expected of a woman in your position. I will buy you a new wardrobe and anything else you need to be presentable. Pack only the things you can’t bare to part from. My tailor will be by to take your measurements, a hair stylist will come by to give you a fresh cut, and on Saturday men will come by to collect your things.” The car takes a hard right turn onto your street.   
“Yes, sir.” You say softly noticing the difference between gangster Alfie and the one who had picked you up.  
Alfie’s eyebrows furrow, but before he speaks he shakes his head softly. “On Saturday, when you come to me home, wear your hair down like you had it earlier today, makes you look older.” Alfie notes, and you nod your head in understanding. The car stops and Alfie steps out. You follow him to your front door. “I must be going, but I will see you saturday.”   
“Goodnight,” you say, reaching for your front door.   
“Goodnight Eliza,” Alfie says before you open the door and step inside, letting the lock click shut behind you.


	3. To Be Presentable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliza gets ready to move in with Mr.Solomons

Serena is furious when you tell her, and you hadn’t expected anything less. Once you calm her down you sit next to her on the edge of your bed, in your newly empty room. Charles plays with a toy dog between you, babbling some of his favorite words from his limited vocabulary.   
You told her of your time at the club with Mr. Solomons, the car ride home, the kindness he had shown you, and the arrangements he had for the next few days.   
“Funny thing life is,” Serena says, stroking Charles’ hair. “Never thought either of us would end up where we are. Certainly never thought Papa was indebted to Alfie Solomons.” The both of you chuckle. It was strange how quickly your family adapted to the idea of being tied to a wanted criminal.   
“Liza,” Charles babbles, crawling into your lap. He stands on your thighs and reaches up into your hair, dropping his toy onto the bed. You make faces and coo back at his words, you watch as he blinks and you notice the exhaustion in his eyes.   
“This one’s gettin ready for his midday nap.” You note, standing and putting charles on your hip. He rests his head against your shoulder while one of his hands continues playing with your curls. You bounce him gently as you walk back and forth, your hand rubbing soft circles over his back.   
“When is the wedding?”   
“My moving into his home is very hush, but that can only last so long. No one has said anything to me about a date but I would expect it to be soon. He may be one of the most powerful man in Camden but an unwed twenty year old woman living anywhere but her family home is sure to cause a buzz.”   
“Is a child part of the deal?” Serena asks, leaning back on the bed, watching you pace with her son in your arms.   
“No one has said anything to me about that.” You pause for a second and listen to Charles breathing which had slowed considerably, the boy was almost asleep. With a lowered voice you continue. “Mr. Solomons told me that unless we were in the presence of those who do not know of the arrangement, there would be no need for any form of affection. So unless I am in Mr. Solomon’s bedroom with a crowd, there’s no chance.”  
“Would you?”   
“Would I what?” You ask, laying charles down in the crib you kept in your room.   
“Ya know, make a baby,” Serena says softly, “but for fun, not for the product, with Alfie.”   
You blush and keep your back to your sister, pretending to be interested in something on the rail of the crib. “He’s nearly fifteen years older than I am Serena.”  
“So?” She prods. “I’ve seen him once before, it was at a charity event Edward took me to a few months ago. The man is far from unattractive, an honestly the danger of it all is a little exciting.”  
“Are you coming onto my fiancé?” You joke, hoping to lighten the air in the room and maybe even end the conversation on the topic.   
“Certainly not, but I am saying that in this life we must find the things that bring us joy because that’s what pulls us through it all.” Serena moves from the bed and comes to your side at the crib. She looks down at a sleeping Charles and speaks more softly now. “Those moments are rare and if you can take action to make them, then you should. This is your life and while this decision wasn’t made by you, you still have the power to choose happiness. Find it Eliza, find it and don’t let go.”   
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
Your father had decided it best Joseph not know of the arrangement so you decided to tell him what everyone else would hear in the coming days. Alfie Solomons had secretly been courting the daughter of a local jewelry maker for the past few months and the two were soon to be married. Joseph took it the worst.   
“How could you not tell me. It’s not fair innit?” You sat on a stool next to Joseph at his work bench in the back of the jewelry store. He had abandoned the piece he was working on long ago, he was now hyper focused on the state of your love life. “You lied to me.”  
“I didn’t want to lie to you,” you say, sitting in the irony of words. Joseph shook his head. “It was for my safety. If anyone who wanted to cause him harm knew about me while I lived in such a vulnerable location, I would have been a sitting duck. It’s why I’m moving in before we have even said vows, I’m not safe here like I once was Joseph.”   
“But I’m your best friend Eliza, I have been your whole life. I’ve never told a single secret you’ve shared with me, you know that.” The raw pain in his voice maker s your heart feel as though a vice were squeezing it tightly.   
“It wasn’t my call to make, it’s all out of my hands,” you say softly, glad you could speak honestly for a moment. “And it’s not like I’m leaving the country, I’ll be just on the other side of Camden. I will visit all the time, you can even come see me if you’d like.”   
Joseph fiddles with a tool while he thinks a moment. He opens his mouth to speak but no sound comes out. With a slow shake of the head he closes his mouth and replaces the tool in its spot on the workbench. He keeps his gaze focused down on the bracelet latch he had been working on.   
“You’re happy when you’re with him? He treats you right?”   
You nod, “He’s a gentleman to me, yes.”   
“If he ever,” Joseph begins, his tone is laced with a seriousness you had not often heard from him. “If he ever hurts you, or threatens you, or forces you to do anything you don’t want to do, please come find me. I will drop everything. We can leave together, he wouldn’t be able to find us.”   
You reach over and place your hand on Joseph’s. “Thank you,” you squeeze his hand gently as his eyes move to meet yours. “You’re still my best friend and you always will be, Alfie doesn’t change that.” Joseph nods and pulls his hand away.   
“I best get back to work, Mr. Harrington will be back for his wife’s bracelet anytime now.”   
“Will you come to the wedding? We haven’t set a date yet, but it will be soon I’m sure.”   
“Yeah, I’ll be there.” Joseph says with a soft sigh. You stand but his attention is fixed on the bracelet.   
“I’ll see you soon.”  
“See you then.” He replies flatly. You take the hint and leave the back of the store.   
Your father stands at the front counter with an older gentleman, you notice the air is much lighter on this side of the curtain. Your father and the older man turn toward you, smiles plastered across each of their faces.   
“Eliza this is Mr. Micheals, he’s Mr. Solomons tailor, says he’s here to fit you for a few garments.”   
You smile at the gentleman and take his extended hand in yours, giving him a polite shake. “Nice to meet you Mr. Micheals.” You decide immediately you like him. The ends of his white moustache are curled into little loops over the sides of his mouth. He wore a dark blue three piece suit he must have made specifically for himself. He was just about your height, short for a man but his joyful presence made him seem much bigger. The hair on the top of his head was just as free of pigment as his mustache, and slicked back, not a single hair out of place.   
“The pleasure is all mine! But please, call me Jimmy.” He laughs. “To be honest i was quite surprised when Alfie told me he had a woman in his life now, but after all the man is being dressed by yours truly, so of course he has a las!”  
You laugh, the man certainly wasn’t wrong, Alfie dressed well between his perfectly tailored suits and heavy jewelry.  
“I’ve already been up to the house, set us up a spot in your dining room, which your wonderful mother helped arrange. How’s about you and I head up there and get started, we have quite a bit to do.” Jimmy offers you his arm.   
You slide your arm through his and you both say goodbye to your father as you walk from the store to your home above.   
“So how’d Alfie manage to seduce a beautiful young girl like yourself?” Jimmy asks as you ascend the stairs to the second floor.   
You blush and think for a moment. You hadn’t considered how you would tell people you met. “My father makes jewelry for him, I was working the counter when he came in once. He was there to buy a necklace for his mother, which I thought was very sweet. I didn’t know he was who he was, he’s just captivated me.”  
“And it was love at first sight i’m sure.” Jimmy says, looking at you from the corner of his eye. You blush and nod in place of a reply and lead him into the dining room. The dinner table and chairs had been pushed against one wall and a folded three part mirror had been moved in, along with a small wooden platform which was placed in the middle of the three mirrors. On the dining table were stacks upon stacks of leather traveling trunks with gold embellished ‘JM’ lettering on each side. The last addition to the room is ring of long curtains in the corner furthest from the door to the room.   
Jimmy untangles his arm from yours and jogs to the mirror, pulling a rack on wheels from behind the setup. Hanging from the silver bar were several beautiful dresses, unlike anything you had ever seen before, let alone wore yourself.   
“These are stunning,” you say, reaching out to touch a beautiful red satin dress with delicate beading along the bodice, but you recoil your fingers before you make contact.   
“You can touch them darling, they’re paid for, and you won’t ruin them.” Jimmy reaches up and takes a high neck black number off the rack. He holds the material out to you. He gestures to the curtains in the corner with one hand and says, “Why don’t you change into this while i find some shoes and we can start fitting you for some of these.”   
With a smile you accept the dress and begin moving across the room, this you could get used to.   
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
You spent hours in the dining room with Jimmy trying on beautiful dresses, gorgeous skirts and embroidered blouses that took your breath away. Not to even mention all of the shoes. You had no idea there were so many kinds of flats let alone the heels and boots.   
Your mother popped in occasionally and it warmed you to see her happy about the situation for the first time. Jimmy even gave her a pair of heels that had been meant for you but according to Jimmy, “Just don’t work with your whole thing, love.”   
“We’re almost done I promise.” Jimmy says while you look at yourself in the mirror. All of these outfits made you feel so grown up. Like a woman for the first time. “I just have one more box to check for Alfie before I can leave.”   
You watch in the mirror as Jimmy opens a chest he had left untouched until now. From inside Jimmy pulls several long white dresses.  
“Since it was such short notice and I had no idea Alfie was even thinking of getting married, we don’t have the widest of selections, but Jimmy never fails darling.”  
He moves across the room and hangs five white dresses on an empty rack. You step down from the podium and move to the dresses. Your attention immediately fixes onto a white lace long sleeve attached to one of the dresses. You pull the dress from the rack hold it out in front of yourself.   
The entire dress is soft white lace, the skirt made of overlapping layers of the material. The upper most layer continues up the bodice of the gown all the way up into a high neck. The back buttons at the neck, but a slit runs from the edge of the collar to the waist of the dress. It was absolutely perfect in every way.   
“No need to see the rest,” Jimmy says walking over to the makeshift changing room and pulling the curtain back. “I know when I see someone fall in love with a piece of clothing. Happens to myself almost daily.”   
You rush over the the changing room and quickly put on the dress.   
“Can you button it?” You ask, stepping out from the circle of curtains. Jimmy rushes over from the trunk of shoes he had been immersed in and helps you with the dress.   
“We may not need to alter this much at all. C’mon darlin, step up.” He ushers you to the podium and moves back to the shoes.   
You stare intently at your reflection in the mirror. The man was right, the dress fit you perfectly. It was strange to see yourself in a wedding dress, but for a moment you let yourself slip into the fantasy of it all. Though you definitely could not have afforded the garment on your own, you like to think that you would have worn this dress regardless.   
Every other bit of your fantasy day would have been just as beautiful. You would have preferred a spring wedding, with lots of beautiful flower arrangements and a grand reception with good music and a lot of space to dance.   
“Here you are darling,” Jimmy says, offering a handkerchief up to you. You realize your eyes had welled with tears and take the square of cloth from him. You dab at your eyes softly. “It’s so sweet to see such pure young love, reminds me of when I was a young man.”   
Your heart falls a little in your chest at his words and you realize the tears are were caused by loss. Seeing yourself in the reflection, adorned in the beautiful lace, reminded you that your life as you knew it had been lost. Taken from you by decisions made without your knowledge by a man you didn’t even know.   
You sniffle and take a deep breath. There was no use in crying now, there was no turning back. “I never thought I would ever wear a dress like this.”   
“Well you had better get used to it darling, Alfie has only just begun buying you things. If there’s one thing I know about that man, it’s that he has an affection for spending money on beautiful things, and you’re the most beautiful thing in his possession.”   
You laugh at the sweet compliment and step down from the podium. You hoped to see a lot of Jimmy in the next chapters of your life with Alfie, it was hard to feel anything but importance when he was around. He was the only light in this dark tunnel you were beginning to walk down. He made you feel safe, like your father had as a girl.   
“May I give you a hug?” You ask timidly.   
“Of course darling.” Jimmy says, opening his arms to embrace you. You step back after a moment but Jimmy leaves his hands on your shoulders. “I have a feeling you and I are going to have a lot of fun together.”


	4. To Alfie’s House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliza moves in with Alfie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for the nice comments and kudos! I have the next few chapters already written so they should all be up soon!

After Jimmy left, a young woman stopped by to trim your hair, fix your nails and slather your skin in lotions and perfumes that scented your family's entire home by the time she was finished. The pampering was nice, but it definitely was something you were going to have to get used to. 

 

Your last night at home wasn’t as somber as you thought it would be. Your mother prepared a nice meal and Serena, Charles and Edward even came to join you. No one spoke of the next day or of Alfie Solomons at all. It was nice to pretend that nothing was changing. Nice to pretend that at this time tomorrow you would be sitting in that same chair discussing your plans for the upcoming week with your family, like you always had. 

 

As noon drew nearer on Saturday you were surprised to find yourself as calm as you were. You parents were doing a fantastic job at holding themselves together, your mother even helping you double check you had all the things you needed to take. 

 

Men showed up before Alfie did. He arrived just as the last of your things were being loaded into the back of a Solomon’s Bakery van. He was standing outside your house talking to your father as you carried your last and lightest bag out. 

 

“ ‘Ello there,” Alfie says as you step outside. “Why’re you carryin’ this?” He moves quickly, taking the bag from your hand, he turns to the nearest one of his men and shoves it into his hands. “You wanna tells me why the fuck she’s carryin’ her shit when that’s your job?” 

“Sorry sir, she told us there wasn’t anything’ left.” The man says, his eyes on the ground. 

 

“I don’t recall asking for an excuse,” Alfie grumbles out, his eyes flicking over to you for a moment. He takes a deep breath, “Just get it to the fucking house.” 

 

The man looks up at Alfie in shock before he looks to you and understanding washes over his face. He moves quickly with your bag, and Alfie turns back to you and your father. 

 

“My apologies for the language, but my instructions could not have been clearer.” Alfie grumbles as he reaches up to adjust his hat. You notice his knuckles are bruised and freshly scabbing over. “Are you ready to head home Eliza?” 

 

“I just need to say goodbye.” You turn to your father and rush into his embrace. He kisses the top of your head and holds you for a moment. Your mother wouldn’t come out to say goodbye, she told you that morning that it wasn’t a goodbye at all, so there was no need for such formality. 

 

“I love you more every day.” Your father says before releasing you, his voice cracks under the weight of his pain. 

 

“More and more everyday.” You reply. Alfie takes his pocket watch from his coat pocket and clicks it open. 

“We’d best get going, I have much more to get done today.” You nod and follow Alfie to his car. Once you’re both inside, the car and the van pull out into the street.

 

   “We’re going to stop at the house and I’ll leave you there for a bit to get comfortable. Ruth is the head of the household, she’s quite excited you’re coming and will take good care o’ ya. She’s the only staff who knows of the arrangement. Everyone else has heard that I met a young thing workin’ for her father. Apparently I was buyin’ somethin’ for me mum, and it was love at first sight.” Alfie turns to look at you, his knowing expression makes you shift in your seat. 

 

You blush, you had been caught. “I didn’t think Jimmy would tell anyone. He asked and I wasn’t sure what to say, we hadn’t discussed it yet. I’m sorry Mr. Solomons, I should have checked with you first.”

 

Alfie chuckles lightly, “There’s no need to apologize, and it’s Alfie. I’m fine with the story, but it is of the utmost importance we keep it straight. You noticed my impeccable taste in jewelry and powerful presence and couldn’t resist. To your delight I invited you dinner and the rest is history.”

 

“Of course.” You agree, keeping your eyes locked on the new shoes you wore. “Thank you for the new wardrobe and things.”

 

“Yer Welcome,” Alfie cracks as the car drives over the canal. “If you find yourself needin’ things don’t be afraid to ask. As my wife you deserve to have anything you desire, nothing too small or request too extravagant.” 

You nod in agreement but remain quiet. The car continues north and you focus your attention out the window. 

 

“We’re leaving Camden?”

 

“After you reach a certain point of success it’s important to physically distance yourself from where you began, see because if you don’t, the physical display of power over those who benefit from your success isn’t as recognizable, innit? We won’t be far, but far enough to set the distinction between us and them.” Alfie pulls a pen and notepad from his pocket while he speaks. He writes quickly and replaces the items in his pocket. “I will set up a car and man to go with you when you want to go anywhere, just let Ruth or I know beforehand.” 

 

You nod, “I will, thank you.” Alfie nods and the two of you plunge back into silence for the rest of the drive. Half an hour passes while you drive further out of the city, taking you down a long road where you pass no other houses or cars, or people really for that matter. 

 

You arrive at a large country style manor, complete with a long driveway and several garages. Ivy crawls up the brick and frames the large windows on each of what appeared to be three stories. Several chimneys reach up to the sky like the fingers of a hand trying to touch the clouds. The front door is made of heavy oak and huge brass handles. The home was easily six or seven times the size of the one you had grown up in. 

 

The interior of the home was just as rustic and strong as the outside appeared. Dark walnut floors with long beautiful red carpets, match the steps and bannisters of two winding staircases leading to the second floor. As you enter an older woman, no older than your mother, comes scurrying into the foyer. 

 

Her dark hair is streaked with grey, her rosy cheeks and button nose shine slightly under the light of the chandelier hanging between the sets of stairs. Her light blue apron has the lightest streaks of flour, as if she wiped her hands against it.

 

“Hello love!” She squeals as she approaches you, her arms wide open. You give her a quick hug and step back. “While working for Mr. Solomons has been wonderful, I must say I am overjoyed to have a woman in the house!”

 

“Happy to help,” you laugh. “You must be Ruth, Alfie said you would be happy to see me.” 

 

“Oh he’s just trying to deflect his own excitement,” she jokes glancing over at an unamused Alfie. “Alfie has a few more things on his schedule today so I will be givin’ you the tour.”

 

“Right,” Alfie says turning toward you. “I should be back before tea, but I have to go now.” 

 

You nod and Ruth winds her arm through yours. “I’ll take you up to your room first. You're in the south wing.”

You allow the woman to pull you toward the staircase, only glancing back for a second to see Alfie heading out the front door. 

 

Ruth leads you up the stairs and to the right, all the way down to the last door at the very end of the hallway. “This is your room, love.” She says before she opens the door. 

 

The room sits at the back corner of the house. The wall across from the door holds two large windows with glass french doors between, which you assume leads to a balcony. To the left of the door is a great canopy bed, larger than any other bed you had ever slept in and covered with more pillows than your entire family used. You walk over to the cloud of a bed, letting your fingers run over the soft cream colored bedding. 

 

The walls of the room were painted a soft green and had a only a few paintings hung along them. One in particular catches your eye, a painting you had read about many times and even had a copy of in your room. You rush to the painting on the wall across the room from your bed and your hand flies to your mouth when you realize this was no reprint. 

 

“Is this…” you manage to speak before losing your words again, tears welling in your eyes. You wipe your eyes and then turn to look at the painting on the wall to your left. You move quickly to the next painting and cannot help but bring your hand up to feel the paint on the canvas. You could not believe your eyes. “Are they real?” 

 

“There’s not a piece of art in this house that isn’t.” Ruth says from a few feet behind you. “I take it you like them?”

 

You nod slowly, unable to speak. You never would have thought you would see a single original work by Claude Monet, let alone have three of them in your room. You continue along the wall to the last painting. They were all from his home in Giverny. The one across from your bed was your absolute favorite painting, The Japanese Footbridge. It was from later in Monet’s life, when his eyesight was failing him. Only a few years old at this point. 

 

The other two on the wall to the left of your bed were older. The one closest the to the head of your bed was Madame Monet and Child, the one at the other end of the wall was one of his many water lily works, though you weren’t exactly sure which. 

 

“Mr. Solomons  just had them put in before you came. He insisted on ‘em.” 

 

“My father must’ve told him he was my favorite artist.” You reply softly, stepping back from the painting.  “This is too much. He didn’t need to do this.” 

 

“You won’t last long here if you think Alfie Solomons does only what is needed and not just what he wants.” Ruth chuckles softly. “Think of ‘em as a gift of you must, but I doubt he will let you take them out of this room.” 

You shake your head. Why would a man you barely even knew do something so kind? Especially a hardened criminal if his caliber. “Your closet and powder room are over here.” 

 

You let Ruth show you the attached bathroom and walk in closet, each much too big in your opinion, but you elect to keep that to yourself. The closet was already stocked with the clothes Jimmy had fitted you for, complete with shoes and all the accessories a person could need, and your trunks were stacked neatly in the corner. 

 

After your room she shows you to your study. Located on the first floor. Ruth informs you that Alfie’s study is just on the other side of the wall from yours. Your study was lined with shelves of books, the walls painted a soft purple, and all the furniture upholstered with soft black silk, including a small fainting couch and a few other chairs placed strategically around the room. There was a great wooden desk on one side of the room, fully stocked with any painting supplies you could think of. He had kept his word to your father, but this was too much. You should have known after the time you spent with Jimmy that Alfie Solomons had no problem spending money, something you were going to have to get used to. 

 

“Please tell me he hasn’t bought me anything else.” You say after you discover all of the art supplies. 

“Well I do know we have one last set of boxes coming from Jimmy, but other than that I know of nothing else.” Ruth pauses, taking a read of your face. “C’mon darlin’ I still need to show you the dining room and kitchen as well as introduce you to everyone else.”

 

You follow Ruth back to the first floor. She shows you the dining room, complete with a long heavy wooden table, made to match the flooring with chairs of the same material. The walnut behemoth of a table could seat twenty people easily, if not more. Something you thought a bit odd for a man who lived alone. 

 

As Ruth leads you back further into the halls of the house, the smell of rosemary and thyme flood your nose. You hear voices coming from the direction Ruth is leading you. Inside the kitchen you find an older man bent over the stove, a wooden spoon in one hand, and a branch of rosemary in the other. Sitting on the counter near the man is a young girl no older than 16, with strawberry blonde cheeks and freckles sprinkled across her face. Standing near the sink is a dark hair boy, no older than the girl next to him, but while she radiates like sunshine after a long winter, the boy feels like the winter she ended. 

 

“Attention everyone!” Ruth puts her hand on your shoulder and scoots you further into the room. “The lady of the house has arrived!” You smile and blush at her introduction. 

 

“Hello, I’m Eliza.”

 

The young girl hops down from the counter and scurries over to you. “Hello! I’m Mildred, but please call me Millie, I hate Mildred terribly. This is Robert, he does maintenance,” she says, gesturing to the boy. “And this is George.” The cook looks up from his pot and gives you a wave and a smile. 

 

“Ello dear!” George was around the same age as Ruth, his portly stature, rosy cheeks and white hair reminds you of santa. “I’m just workin’ on the tea Mr.Solomons requested for this evening. It’s been a while since i’ve got to cook for more than just him.” 

 

Millie nods her head in agreement. “We’re so excited to have you madam! I never thought Mr. Solomons would find love, you must be some kinda special.”

“I’m excited to be here,” you offer with a smile. While Ruth knew of the real reason for your presence, this young girl had most certainly gotten all of her information from Jimmy, and shared it with the others. 

 

The combination of the young girl and the tailor worried you a bit, this whole pretending to be in love with Alfie Solomons may be more that you can chew, but now was the time to practice. “You’re all so very welcoming, thank you. I’m sure Alfie has told you that we are not yet wed, and my premature arrival is out of concern for my safety. While I am overjoyed to be here, I fear Alfie may be concerned for my reputation, so I must ask you give us extra space to adjust in the coming weeks.”

 

“Of course darlin’.” George says from across the room. “Mr. Solomons has given us explicit orders in concern to your safety and privacy. You are in good hands with us.” 

“It already feels like home,” you try with a cheerful smile. 

“We’ll give you some time to get settled in before tea, if you need anything I will be here helpin’ or you can ring any of the bells around the house and Millie or I will come find ya.” Ruth smiles. 

 

You nod in agreement and move back toward your room, leaving Ruth in the kitchen with the rest of the staff. You decide to stop off at your study before heading back to your room. You find the phone quickly and dial your sisters number. 

 

“Alman residence.” Your sisters voice lilts over the phone, the familiar sound brings you comfort. You take the phone and pull it over to the fainting couch, curling up with earpiece against your head and the base sitting in your lap. 

 

“Serena it’s Eliza.”

 

“Liza! Have you moved in? How’s it going?”

 

“It’s fine,” you begin. Unsure of what to say next, it’s not like you had a point to the call. “It’s all a lot.”

 

“What do you mean?” You hear Charles babbling near the phone and your heart aches, he would be with you right now if you weren’t where you are. 

 

“He bought original Monet paintings for my room, Serena. I have nothing to offer in return. I can’t accept them.” 

 

“Are you joking Eliza? You’ve given the man the rest of your life. Some paintings are the least he can do. There’s nothing he could give you short of the moon to make up for taking you away. In fact, I’d like a painting or two to make up for it.” Tears begin welling up in the corners of your eyes. “And don’t you start crying. If the man wants to spend obscene amounts of money on you, take it. That’s all you’ll have to take from him. And not to mention how being aligned with him in the slightest puts you in danger, let alone being his wife.”

 

You couldn’t argue with a thing she said, but it didn’t change how you felt. “I know, I just-“ 

 

“No,” Serena interrupts. “He’ given to you your whole life. Gave papa his store, gave us a roof over our heads. This isn’t any different. I know it’s gonna take time to get used to, no one expects to be an easy move for ya love, but you’ve gotta try to get with it.” 

 

“I will.” You admit, she was right after all. “How’s your day going?” 

 

“Mum has been baking since you left. I’m going to take Charles over there in a bit, I have to attend an engagement party for one of Edward’s friends tonight. Ed says people have already been asking about you and Mr. Solomons, has he told you what to say when people ask?”

 

“The story is that he came in to Papas shop to buy something for his mum, his thoughtful gift and powerful presence really got me going and I could barely contain myself.” You chuckle, “Well at least the beginning, though I’m sure Millie believes the last bit.”

 

“Who’s Millie?”

 

“A young girl who works in the house. She’s not older than 16, and from what I can tell, thinks that Mr. Solomons and I are madly in love.” 

 

“I remember thinking everyone who was married was in love.” Both you and Serena laugh lightly. “Poor girl won’t know what hit her.”

 

You shake your head slowly. You had been as hopeful as she was to believe in love so easily, and that was only a few days ago. “I should get going, I have a couple more things to get done before Mr. Solomons comes back. I’ll call you tomorrow. Love you more every day.”

 

“More every day. Talk to you then.”

 

The phone clicks as it disconnects and you return it to its place on the desk. You find the bell next to the window the desk faces out, giving you a nice view of the rolling field around the house. A few trees are sprinkled across the grounds, but other than that, there wasn’t much to see. You ring the bell and take a seat at the desk. A few moments later the door to your study cracks open and you turn to see Ruth gently close it behind her. 

 

“Yes?” 

 

“I was just wondering if I could get a bath started in my room. I’m going to collect some things from here to take up to my room but I would love to soak for a bit.” 

 

“Of course, I’ll have Millie right on it. Anything else for you?” 

 

“That should be all thank you Ruth,” you finish. The older woman smiles and slips back into the hall. 

 

You turn your attention back to the desk. You find a couple decent sized sketchbooks and a small set of paints and set it aside. There’s a wide variety of pens in the center console of the desk. So many in fact, that you may not ever need buy a pen again. These were all nice sketching pens though, no two were exactly alike. 

After you select a few most familiar to you, you move to the book shelf. 

 

You were always reading. In fact you had read many books several times. There was something about being pulled out of the world for a moment that felt so comforting to you. You select a few books as well to take up to your room. With your arms full of supplies you make your way up the stairs and down to your room. 

Once inside you set your load on the top of an ornate dresser that sits between the door to your bathroom and the one to your closet. 

 

Walking into the bathroom you find Millie filling the beautiful porcelain clawfoot tub with steaming water. “Would you like any oils in madam?” Millie asks moving to one of the cabinets along the wall. She opens one to reveal the same bottles the woman who had came to your house had used. 

 

“The rose ones would be lovely, thank you.”

 

Millie reaches into the cabinet and pulls out a soft pink glass bottle. “There should be a set of robes in your closet madam.”

 

“Thank you.” The girl had read your mind. You leave to your closet and return with your jewelry removed and dressed down into a soft satin robe that matched the linens of your room. 

 

“I don’t mean to bother you ma’am, but I do have one question I must ask.” You nod and the girl continues with a smile. “Why Mr. Solomons?”

 

You hesitate for a moment, unsure of what to say. “His powerful presence,” you start, parroting Alfie’s words. “The small things. The art supplies, the paintings. The things that show me he’s paying attention.”

 

The girls smile light up. “Of course, it’s always the little things isn’t it?” 


	5. To Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner with Alfie!

You couldn’t have spent enough time in that bathtub if you never left it. It was made for relaxing and boy, did it deliver. You even fell asleep for a bit, listening to the birds outside chirping and the house creak and moan as it settles. When you awake the water had gone cold and the bubbles were no more. You finally pull yourself from the water and find a large plush towel and wrap yourself in it. 

 

You make your way into your closet and find getting dressed for such a casual occasion as tea to be more difficult than you remembered it being. You settle on a soft light blue cotton dress. It went midway down your shins and had short sleeves with a square neckline. You elected to let your hair fall in its natural curls down your back. 

 

Once you were dressed you find your stack of suitcases and being unpacking your things. You add pictures of your family and personal trinkets to your room. Before you know it there’s a soft knock at your door. “Come in!” 

You had expected Ruth or Millie, so in your surprise you stand quickly from your seat at the edge of the bed. 

 

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Alfie says, stepping into your room, leaving the door slightly open behind him. “I just wanted to see if you got all settled in fine.” His broad frame is covered by an oversized white shirt, the sleeves rolled up his forearms, and the end of his shirt was tucked into the waist of his black trousers, which were being held up by dark red suspenders. You can’t help but let your eyes roll over his form, stopping for a moment at the tuft of chest hair peeking out of the neck of his shirt. 

“I have, thank you.” You collect the sketch pad and few pens you had on your bed and move to put them in the drawer of your bedside table, mostly to give yourself something to do. 

 

Alfie clears his throat. “And your room and study are to your liking?”

 

“Yes, thank you.” You look up to the painting that had brought tears to your eyes only a few hours earlier, and turn to face Alfie. “How’d you know about Monet, being my favorite artist, I mean.”

 

“Didn’t know.” Alfie says, walking over to the painting and scratching at his neck. “Came across the three of ‘em on a job and thought they were nice. I’ve had ‘em in storage for the past year or so. Had ‘em put up after our night at the club, thought they might be somethin’ you like.” 

 

You found yourself both desperately searching for emotion in his words as well as stunned that he had somehow just known you would like them. You move over to the painting as well, standing the length of the painting away from him. “This one is actually my favorite one he did. I was at a museum with my sister a few years ago, and they were selling reprints and I fell in love with it immediately.”

 

After a beat Alfie laughs, but it’s not his usual deep chuckle, this one is higher and freer than it had been before. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news mate, but this is nothin’ but a bunch of paint a blind man threw on a canvas.”

 

You can’t help but let out a laugh. “No,” you giggle. “It’s more than that, it’s how he remembers feeling about the bridge, how he saw it then and now. He has so many paintings of the same things and they become more and more beautiful, even when he can’t see them because he doesn’t need his sight to know that.” 

 

Alfie looks over at you, your eyes locked on a series of red and orange lines, and back to the painting. “Either way tea is just about ready I believe. Shall we?” 

 

You nod and follow Alfie out of the room. You walk together in silence the short distance to the dining room. You notice that Alfie depends much more on his cane now than you had ever seen him before. When you enter the dining room, two place settings were put out at the head of the table nearer to the kitchen. 

 

Alfie leans his cain against the chair at the head of the table and moves to the other setting before you can make it to the chair. He slides the heavy wooden chair back easily, and you thank him as you sit. Alfie grunts in response. A moment after you’re seated Ruth rushes into the room, Millie hot on her heels. 

 

“Matzo ball soup! Me own mother’s recipe!” Ruth says as she and Millie place bowls in front of you and Alfie. You were thankful for the comfort food, but nervous to be alone with Alfie. Millie sets a bottle of wine before Alfie, who fills each of your glasses just under half way. Ruth and Millie return to the kitchen before assuring you that they would be back with the next course in a few minutes. 

 

Alfie tucks into his soup and you can’t help but watch him. You realize that there is something almost animalistic in his eating, but after further thought you realize it is in everything he does. He’s not messy or eating quickly but you see that it is simply for the energy it provides, the necessity of the thing, not the pleasure. 

 

“I was wondering, well my sister asked, but the wedding…” you trail off, lost in your own words. 

 

“Not too long now. Probably week after next. I have to get some things in order first, but soon” Alfie says, nearly done with his bowl. You have barely touched it, but not because it wasn’t delicious, mostly because food was not feeding the hunger your attention demanded, but Alfie did. He continues, “It will be here, and on a Saturday, and once I get you a date you may plan it as you wish. Jimmy even said you and he found a dress already.” His eyes lock into yours. 

 

“Yeah, it’s something he had around when he came to fit me. It’s nice.” You remain as casual and distant as Alfie kept himself. 

 

“Very good. I have no preference on many wedding things, so work with Ruth to get the things you need. It’s freshly spring so any flower you want is obtainable.” Alfie pauses and his hand moves to his chest, patting where his inside coat pocket would normally be. “Hold on.” He says, standing from his chair. He grabs his cane and makes his way out of the room. You’re confused, but use the opportunity to take a few more bites of soup. You certainly didn’t want George to feel his food was unappreciated. 

 

A moment later Alfie returns, and when he is reseated he places a small black box on the table between the two of you. “Figured we needed some metal to make it official.” You reach out and take the box in your hand. Flipping it open you look inside, and immediately you struggle to keep your mouth closed. You were raised in a jewelry store so you liked to think that you had a grasp on looking at beautiful stones, but nothing prepared you for the diamond in this box. It was easily the biggest one you had ever seen, 18 karat at the least. 

 

“Alfie,” you say softly, his eyes haven’t left your face since you picked up the ring. 

 

“Had it for a while, figured it should be put to use. Your father set the band with your size and all. So go on.” He motions to the box, then takes a drink from his wine glass. You take it out gently and slide it over your finger. It’s stunning from every angle and you would bet every lighting. 

 

While you’re ogling the stone Ruth and Millie return. Millie clears your bowls and stops dead in her tracks when she notices the new addiction to your hand. “Holy shit.”

 

Ruth moves to scold the girl after setting a plate of lamb and roasted potatoes in front of Alfie, but is also caught blindsided by the ring. “My word,” the older woman says, before moving to set your plate in front of you. 

 

Alfie chuckles softly as the older woman wrangles the younger out of the dining room. You notice a shift in his eyes and feel relieved. So there was a man in that beast after all. 

 

“Where’s yours?” You ask while you cut your food into pieces. Alfie sets down his knife and flashes you a silver band, with a square diamond set flush into it. It’s unlike any ring you’ve ever seen, much like yours. You hadn’t looked close enough before now but you had assumed the whole piece to be silver, but seamlessly set in was another stunning diamond.

 

“Only the best,” Alfie says, turning his attention back to his meal. You nod in agreement and join Alfie in eating. The weight of the ring is heavy on your finger, just another thing you will have to get used to. “Have you made plans for tomorrow evenin’?” You shake your head while you chew. “Good. We have an event to attend. Jimmy will be here at 5 to begin helping you get ready, there’s an unspoken dress code you will learn in time.” 

 

“What’s the event?” You ask gently, still somewhat afraid to upset Alfie with something you say. 

 

“Fundraiser for a charity. Do you recall how I told you at the club, that we’ve been brought together in this situation by those powers which push our hands.” You nod once again, finishing off the potatoes on your plate. “They would like to meet you.”

 

You freeze for a moment before setting your silverware down on the edge of your plate. Just as you do Millie and Ruth return once more. Like before Millie clears the plates and Ruth sets small salads before you and Alfie.

 

Once they leave again Alfie continues. “There is no need to be nervous or afraid. As I’ve said before no one will hurt you while you’re with me, and there’s not much they can do about my choice in you. It’s a formality more than anything, nothing that warrants your concern.”

 

“Of course,” you say, looking up to Alfie. He pulls his sleeves back higher up on his arms and you notice a streak of red against his tanned skin. For a moment you wonder if the blood is his, but quickly realize that besides the bruises and cuts on his knuckles that had appeared that morning, he was unharmed. You move your eyes to his chest and notice small darker spots of red sprinkled across his suspenders. 

 

Of course you were safe from others when you were with him, the man was known for his violence, but you quickly realized it wasn’t the others you should worry about. You set your salad fork down on the plate in front of you as your appetite had quickly vanished. With a shakey hand you reach for your wine and quickly take a drink. Before your replace the glass on the table you help yourself to another healthy gulp and take a deep breath. 

 

Alfie looks at you with furrowed brows. “The salad won’t hurt you either.” He chuckles to himself and takes a swig from his own glass. You smile meekly and stab a few of the leaves with your fork. “Is your study well stocked? Your father said you painted, I wasn’t sure what you needed so I told Ollie to get anything he could get his hands on.”

 

“It’s fantastic, thank you. I work with oils when I paint but I sketch more than anything, and the books and pens are perfect.” You take a bite from your fork and force the food down your throat, washing it down with another drink from your wine glass. 

 

Alfie picks up the bottle from the table and refills your glass again. He turns the bottle in his hand once he’s done and uses his other hand to bring his bifocals up to his eyes. “Do you like this wine?” 

 

“It’s good,” you put simply, taking another drink. 

 

“Well you’re putting it away like it’s the last bottle of water on the planet and your parched.” You set your glass back down as Alfie’s eyes look up to you behind those gold rimmed glasses. 

 

“It’s good,” you repeat with a soft laugh.

 

“I’ll get more.” Alfie sets the bottle back on the table. 

 

“You don’t need to. I can drink whatever, please don’t do that on my account.” You give a small smile. 

 

Alfie sets his fork down on his plate with a soft clang his hands resting on the table on each side of his plate. “See the thing about bein’ me wife is that if you like something I will buy you as many as I damn well please.” The frustration in Alfie’s voice is palpable. You sit up straighter in your chair and send a silent prayer that Ruth comes in with pudding, but it goes unanswered. Alfie looks down at his half eaten salad and takes a breath. “I apologize, work was difficult today, and I was trying to do something nice.” 

 

“No, it’s okay.” You take a chance and reach out, placing you hand on Alfie’s and giving him a soft pat. His eyes look up at you and you give him a soft smile. “I appreciate all the things you have gotten for me, it’s just a lot, and I’m not used to it. I’ve worked for the things i’ve wanted, well except the things you gave my father. It’s difficult for me to accept such nice things.” 

 

Just before you’re about to pull your hand from Alfie’s Millie and Ruth return. Alfie quickly takes your hand in his to turn the scene from one of apology to one of intimacy. You hear Millie’s stifled gasp and squeal and heat rushes to your cheeks. You pull your hand from his and replace it in your lap as Ruth sets a beautiful chocolate cake on the table between you. Millie clears your plates and provides new ones as Ruth cuts thin slices of the sweet. She places a slice on each of your plates and leaves the serving utensils on the platter. 

 

“Enjoy!” Millie says, her words bursting with youthful hope and excitement. 

 

You blush harder and force out a soft, “Thank you.”

 

“You’re welcome!” Ruth calls, ushering Millie out of the room with her. 

 

“I understand,” Alfie says reaching for his wine glass and taking a drink. “I’ve grown so used to such spending it is nothing to me. Other than what is necessary I will try to respect your transition into such a lifestyle. But what is mine is yours, we are to be married after all, we may as well learn to work together.”

 

“Thank you.” You take your fork and cut a small square from the corner of your slice of cake. You involuntarily let out a soft moan as the wonderful symphony of chocolate hits your taste buds. Alfie looks over at you and chuckles softly as your cheeks blush. “This is so good.” 

 

“Absolutely sinful.” Alfie says, taking a bite from his own slice. His eyes shut for a moment while he chews and you allow yourself to watch his strong jaw work. You let your eyes fall to his hands and forearms as he moves to take another bite. You pick up your wine glass and watch him over the edge of it while you take another drink. Watching his strong calloused hand handle the small silver fork made you wonder how his hands looked against much more delicate things.

 

Perhaps it was the nearly two glasses of wine and your low tolerance for the drink. Or perhaps it was a subconscious desperate attempt to find something to cling to within the man, but either way you saw, for a moment, a powerful, rich and handsome man who was to be your husband, and an excitement grew in you that you had not experienced before. You take another bite of your cake and keep your eyes on Alfie. After washing the bite down with a drink Alfie glances up at you. 

 

“What?” He asks, looking you up and down, before seeing your nearly empty glass and chuckling as he picks up the bottle to refill it yet again. “I’m not one to judge drinking habits, in fact drinking habits are what I profit off of. No need to be shy.” 

 

“Thank you.” You say, taking the glass up from the table once more, but only taking a small sip this time. You decided you needed to slow down on the wine in the future, no need for more irrational thoughts. 


	6. to Prepare for a Night Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a short chapter but I will have ch 7 up shortly!!

Alfie left early the next morning, promising to be back before noon to prepare for the party that night, leaving you to have breakfast by yourself. This of course meaning that Millie was constantly fawning over the new rock on your finger. 

 

“It’s so romantic, when we came in last night and he had your hand in his. I was swooning at the sight. And that ring! I’ve never seen anything like it before! You’re so very lucky madam, every other girl only dreams about a ring like that.” She fills your cup with tea as you swallow a bite of your toast. 

 

“He does have excellent taste.” You stretch your hand out in front of you, the morning sun shining through the windows behind you, making the diamond sparkle more than you had seen it before. 

 

Ruth walks past the other side of the table, a fresh pot of coffee on the tray in her hands. She offers an apologetic look as she sets her load on the table. “Millie, would you be a dear and go remind Robert about tonight.”

 

“Yes’m,” Millie says before giving you a smile and exiting the room. 

 

Ruth takes a seat next to you and grabs the pot of coffee and cup from the tray. “Mind if I sit with you a moment?” 

 

“Not at all,” You say, taking a sip from your cup of tea. 

 

“Didn’t think you would.” Ruth says lightly, pouring herself a small cup of coffee. 

 

“Is there any chance I can take lunch in my study today?” You had plans to make some art before the events of the day began. You found that taking time to focus on the intricate details of painting helped you relax before big events. 

 

“Of course! That's a wonderful idea!” Ruth says before taking a sip. “Alfie said you won’t be needin’ dinner here and to have a hearty breakfast and lunch. I think he’s planning on you gettin’ sloshed me dear.” 

 

You chuckle. “He would be wrong to expect that.” You look down at your plate of toast and eggs. “But he was right to ask for a hearty breakfast, I woke up starving.”

 

Ruth laughs and takes another drink. “Well me dear, before I go back to my duties I just wanted to tell you that seein’ as I am the only one in the house besides you and Alfie who knows the truth, I feel it is important you know I would like to support you in your time here with us. I know Alfie, better than anyone else, ‘cept maybe Ollie, and I know how that man can be, how he can get sometimes. If you need someone to confide in, I’m here for ya.” 

 

You reach out and rest your hand in hers, giving it a soft squeeze before pulling back. “Thank you, I appreciate that.” You smile and take another drink of your tea. 

 

“I do know Alfie,” She continues. “I know the bad, but I also know the good. I know it takes some time to see, but the man has his merits. He hopes to show you a good time tonight, other than the obligatory meeting he still wants to spend that time with you. Now he will never admit it, but I know him, how he acts and how it means he feels. You, I don’t know so well, but from what I can tell you’re afraid, uncertain and nervous, which are all fair for you to feel, but just as I told him, you need to learn to coexist, and you must be willing to learn how.” 

 

You nod and mull over her words for a moment. “I know,” you admit, taking a breath. “I’ve not been around a man like him before, but I think I’m figuring him out.”

 

“It’s not too hard, you just have to let go of the things you’ve heard. What you think you know,” Ruth says before finishing her cup of coffee and standing, cup in hand. She pats your shoulder with her empty hand and leaves you alone with your thoughts. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

You stand at your easel, dressed in an old, somewhat worn dress you had brought with you, it was one of your favorites to wear when you painted. Stains from paintings past streaked across the front and sides of the dress. You were working on painting the landscape you saw out the windows of your study but you couldn’t quite get the texture of the leaves on the trees right. 

 

You set your paintbrush down and dip your pointer finger into the green paint on your pallet. You begin to make small swirls on the canvas, working to convey the motion of the wind through its branches. You glance over at the half eaten sandwich and cold tea on your desk and sigh. You should’ve taken a longer lunch break. 

 

“All the things I bought you and you’re usin’ your fingers?” You jump at the unexpected sound of Alfie’s voice, adding a little more green than you had meant to. You curse softly and pull back from the painting. You set down your pallet and instinctively wipe your green painted fingers against your dress, turning to see Alfie. He moves into your study and stops at the first chair he comes to, draping his coat over one of the arms, and leaving his cane resting against the side. 

 

“I couldn’t get it right with the brushes”. You turn back toward your painting and select a new bush, though you don’t dip it into any paint. The floorboards creak softly as Alfie comes up behind you, keeping some distance as he stares at your work intently. 

 

“Now that’s art innit? Not those wild streaks of color your friend Monet uses. You can see somethin’ in this.” You dip your brush into white paint and add some of the little clouds from out the window, something you could manage with the pressure of an audience. “You always paint things like this?” 

 

“Still life and landscape mostly, yes. I would love to do portraits, but I can’t ever seem to get the eyes right.” Alfie grunts in reply and continues to watch you. As the silence grows so does your discomfort. Unsure of what else to say you ask, “How was your morning?” 

 

Alfie moves around the desk and sits in its accompanying chair, turning to face you. “Not so terrible. I may have to head out of town soon on business, but I haven’t quite figured out some logistics yet.” He kicks his feet up on your desk and rests back into the chair. “My sciatica seems to be takin’ a break for the day, think my new tablets are actually workin’. Hard to be upset when your achin’ finally stops innit?” 

 

“Joseph’s father has sciatica, have you tried arnica flower for your muscle soreness?” You ask, moving back into fully painting now that Alfie is on the other side of the canvas. 

 

“Hmm,” He grunts, he scratches at his beard while he thinks. “Can’t say I have. I’ll have Ruth order me some. Who’s Joseph? Your boyfriend?”

 

You can’t stifle the laugh that comes from you. You had gotten used to people asking if Joseph was your boyfriend but the only reason men who weren’t your fathers age asked, was because they wanted to be. Hearing the question from Alfie was unexpected. 

 

“I’m sorry,” you say, trying to compose yourself. “No, he’s my best friend from childhood, I’ve known him my whole life basically. He’s like my brother.” Alfie nods but stays silent, a look of contentment creeps onto his face. 

 

“Jimmy will be here at five, but if you don’t mind I would like an hour of your time before then. Gotta get some things done before tonight.” Alfie stands from the chair and walks around to lean against the front of the desk. “You said you know how to shoot a gun?”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

An hour or so after Alfie came into your study, the two of you were off in an empty field near the house, standing a few yards from a stack of hay bales formed into a makeshift target. 

 

Alfie pulls a small gun from a briefcase he has resting on the hood of the car he had driven out in. He turns the gun over in his hand and slides in a clip with a click. He moves to face you. 

 

“Now, I never expect you to need to use this, especially when you are with me, but in this business you need to know how to fend for yourself.” He walks over you you, gun in hand. “Have you used a pistol before?”

 

“Only once, mostly shotguns and rifles, my father taught Joseph and I to hunt one summer. We went every summer after that for a while too. “ You look up at Alfie, though he wasn’t very tall he still had a good couple inches on you. 

 

Alfie nods and the two of you turn to face the target. An outline of a body has been painted onto the side of the bale. “Now if you ever need to use this, you’re gonna want to aim for the chest and stomach, those have the most area, you’re going to be more likely to hit em. If you can’t get a clean torso shot, legs are going to be your next best shot. Thighs then knees.” 

 

Alfie holds up the gun next to you, your head turning to study his stance, but for some reason seeing Alfie so relaxed, and casual with a killing machine in his hand, spreads a warmth through your stomach. You blink hard, pushing the feeling to the side, the man was a killer. This wasn’t target practice this was killing practice. Everyday work practice to him. 

 

“Now,” Alfie says, turning toward you, he holds the gun in one hand and moves slightly behind you. He takes your right hand flush against his and places the gun into it. His other hand comes around to take your free hand in it to meet on the side of the gun. His chest pressed flat against your back, and you do your best not to pull yourself forward and away from his body. “Now it’s going to have a kick, keep your wrist firm and watch your breathing. If you can control your breathing, you can control your actions.”

 

You’re taken off guard by the words that had always belonged to your father, having to shake your head slightly to refocus on the task at hand. You nod your head and focus on your breathing. Just before Alfie was going to tell you to fire, you move gun slightly upward and squeeze the trigger, nailing the target in the dead center of the head. 

 

Alfie’s hands go somewhat slack around yours and you let the aim of the gun fall lower, squeezing the trigger twice more, nailing the target where a heart would be on a real man. Finally you deliver bullets into each of the knees and click the safety back into place. 

 

“I was always the best shot.” You say, turning your head to see Alfies eyebrows raised in surprise. His arms fall away from around you and he steps to the side. 

 

“That’s the truth innit? You coulda told me so before I dragged you all the way out ‘ere.” He scratches his beard and turns to look at you. “Fulla talents you are.” 

 

“Most men don’t believe I’ve ever even handled a gun. Figured I may as well show you so you had a little peace of mind,” you say simply, sliding the clip from the gun and seeing how many bullets were left. 

 

Alfie nods again and moves back to the car. He pulls out a small box and come back over to you. “Here you go,” he says, swapping the gun in your hand for the box in his. “I know I said I wouldn’t spend extravagant money on ya, but this is a necessary expense.”

 

You open the box to find a semi-automatic pistol like the one you had just been using, but this one was slightly smaller, and the handle was pearl. You reach inside and pull out the piece of cold metal, turning it over in your hand. If you had to have a gun, you were glad it was one like this. One where it’s grotesque purpose was masked with some beauty. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

When you and Alfie returned to the house Jimmy was already there. Alfie excuses himself to get ready in his own room at the other end of the hall. You find Jimmy in your closet, just as Ruth told you he would be. There were four dresses hanging on the wall when you walk in, each from the fitting at your parents house. 

 

“Liza! So good to see you dear,” Jimmy exclaims as you move over to him, embracing quickly. You greet him with a smile and the both of you turn to the dresses. “I was so happy when Alfie called me to help you get dressed for your first big outing.” 

 

“Your help is much needed and even more appreciated.” You laugh lightly walking over to your favorite of the four dresses. It was black and mostly silk. The short sleeves were made of matching black tulle over soft silk sleeves. There were small rhinestones placed sparingly and strategically over the dress, making the whole thing look like the night sky over your body. 

 

“Well first I need you to go clean up in the bath, you’re beautiful, but you’ve got paint on your hands and arms my doll.” Jimmy places an arm around you and leads you out of the closet and into your bathroom. “I already had Millie run a bath. You get freshened up and I’ll have everything ready for you by the time you’re all done.” 

 

You bathe quickly, though you know that you could spend the entire night in that tub and be perfectly content. You leave the bathroom wrapped in the thick towel that was left for you, and notice that the light scent of lavender follows you into your bedroom. 

 

“Jimmy?” You call out softly, not wanting to startle the man as you turn the corner into the closet. He has put away the other dresses and pulled out several pairs of shoes, at least five jackets and more clutch style handbags than you knew you had. On the small round ottoman on the center of the closet are several piles of folded lace and satin. 

 

“Somehow even more gorgeous than before.” Jimmy sets down a pair of kitten heels next to the other shoes he had pulled out and walks to you. “I also took the liberty to have some knickers and slips made up for you. There’s even a couple corslets in there if that’s more comfortable for you, but they’re on the out, so I wasn’t sure.”

 

“Thank you,” You move over the the ottoman with Jimmy and look over your options, your eyes locking on a set of purple satin, very similar to the color you had worn your first time out with Alfie. The set consists of a bra, knickers, and slip, all trimmed with purple lace. 

 

“Excellent choice. That lilac is lovely with your coloring my dear. Alfie sure is in for a treat,” Jimmy gives you a knowing look and you blush instantly. You had almost forgotten that Jimmy wasn’t in on the deal. In fact tonight you and Alfie would be the only ones who would know. Meaning you would need to convince everyone of a happy engagement. 

 

You take the undergarments and leave for the bathroom to change, coming back to Jimmy only to be handed the dress, which you slip over your head, and allow Jimmy to button up the long line up your back. 

 

Barely an hour later your dressed, your understated  makeup is done, and your hair has been fixed into a half updo. Your hair was longer than was common in the current style, but Alfie had requested it stay down so you looked older. You figured this was a good medium. 

 

Jimmy holds up a thick black jacket with a beaded collar and you slip your arms in. Just before you leave your room to meet Alfie downstairs you slip on your wedding ring, at which Jimmy nearly faints, giving you an opportunity to discreetly slip the gun in your purse as well. 

 

You leave Jimmy in your room to replace all your clothing, but not before an embrace and words of encouragement from Jimmy for your night. You find Alfie, also dressed to the nines, waiting at the front door, white handled cane in one hand, his small notebooks in the other. His bifocals rested on his nose as he read the small pages. 

 

Hia head turns up to the stairs as you descend, and he replaces the book in his jacket pocket, where it usually lived, and let his golden bifocals fall around his neck. He wore another perfectly tailored three piece black suit, complete with his signature hat and long black jacket, and you let yourself think he looks handsome without trying to rid yourself of the notion.

 

“You look nice,” Alfie says as you reach the bottom of the stairs. You smile and thank him as you make your way across the foyer. “We best get going.” You nod in agreement and Alfie opens the front door for you. 


	7. To Meet the powers that be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long chapter ahead! enjoy <3

* * *

“You’ve heard of The Peaky Blinders boys yeah?” Alfie asks after about fifteen minutes of driving in silence.

 

“Of course, they killed Billy Kimber, everyone knows of them.” You think back to the first time you had seen one of the Shelby brothers. You were out for a night on the town with your sister and some of her friends a few years back. John Shelby had been wildly drunk, both picking fights and hitting on women, most of which you bet regretted denying his advances, given who he was now.

 

“Yeah well we’ve partnered in business you see and I haven’t exactly always acted in the best interest for the both of us and the head prick-,” Alfie shakes his head. “Sorry, Thomas, says I need to practice and prove me loyalty. Wanted me to marry one of them gypsy slags, but I said that if I was going to spend the rest of my days stuck on this earth with someone, they would be someone of me own chosin’, someone of jewish decent like meself, someone no one would question.”

 

“So you chose me.” You finish for him. Now it made sense. You were simply an unknown jewish girl, probably the first one Alfie saw after getting his marching orders from Mr. Shelby.

 

“Needed somethin’ quick, as Thomas has business plans for which he needs my assured loyalty. Your father owed me, and I’ve never spent time chasin’ birds, never seemed important enough, not essential. That’s where you come in. He demanded I have a wife. Tommy’s the only one of the bastards that knows this is false.” Alfie pulls his pocket watch from his vest and clicks it open, glancing down quickly before returning it. “I know these boys. They will be kind, but they can be inappropriate in front of young ladies such as yourself, ‘specially that young one John, and especially if they have a few drinks in ‘em. So i’m apologizing’ ahead a time on their behalf.”

 

“I’ll be okay, it’s not like grown men haven’t made inappropriate comments to me before.” You say simply. You turn and look out the window and notice the light pollution of the city getting more intense as your draw nearer.  

 

“We’re nearly there now,” Alfie notes, adjusting his jacket and checking his pocket watch once again. “You remembered to bring your new piece I gave ya, yeah?”

You nod and click open your clutch to double check. “Good. Should you get separated from me or the Shelby boys that’s your first line of defense should anything go awry. I don’t mean to scare you, and I’m not expectin’ any trouble, but who knows who’s after the Blinders now.”

 

You nod and take a deep breath, trying to let Alfie’s words reassure you. Alfie coughs and shifts uncomfortably in his seat, almost as if he was nervous. After clearing his throat once more he speaks up, it was strange, and almost comforting to see him a little unsure.

 

“It’s a little silly I guess, erm but I thought it may make this easier for you, since you’re basically plunging into the unknown here. But anyway, when I was little, and I would get scared, my mom would have me hold her hand, and squeeze it when I needed to focus on being brave, send the fear somewhere else. And well, I was thinkin’ since we have to appear intimate, it might be something that would help you.” Alfie’s hand reaches up and scratches the back of his neck. That tiny peek into Alfie’s past was more calming and reassuring than anything else he could have said or done. You may of been nervous still, but you were no longer afraid.

 

“Thank you, that’s incredibly kind Alfie.” You reach over timidly and let your hand slip into his, and he looks up at you. You consciously don’t squeeze at all to tell Alfie without words that you were not afraid of him. He doesn’t pull his hand away, but his eyes move up from your interlocked hands, to meet your gaze.

 

“You’re welcome. I haven’t told anyone that before so that would make this another one of our secrets, innit?” You nod and give him a small smile. His face remains fairly expressionless and you notice the car slowing. It joins a line of other cars pulling up to a large building in London that you had walked by several times in the past.

 

Once the car stops Alfie exits and helps you out as well, your hands reconnecting the second the door shuts. His warm calloused palm, and heavy jewelry was quickly becoming a security blanket for you as you enter the building, into crowds of people. You let Alfie guide you through the ornate building. It was laid out like it was a museum at one point, but was clearly only used for charity balls and fundraisers now.

 

You arrive at a round table where three men and an older woman all sit, each with a bottle of alcohol and varying degrees of empty cups before them. They stand as you and Alfie approach.

 

The room is filled with chatter and the soft music of a string arrangement coming from somewhere near, but you can hear Alfie speak clearly. “Eliza, these are the Shelby’s. Thomas, Arthur, John, and their aunt Polly. Shelby’s, this is Eliza Fisher, me fiancée.” He gestures to each person as he introduces them.

 

The oldest brother with the mustache, Arthur, reaches a hand out to you, which you take and shake firmly. “Lovely to meet you lass. Great ‘andshake you got there.” He’s clearly intoxicated, but you hear his sincerity.

 

John, the one you had seen before looks at you with heavy eyes, he’s drunk too, but clearer than his older brother. The woman looks you over intensely, her gaze intense and unrelenting. You move first to her, she reminds you of your aunt, a smart woman who demands respect. You offer her your hand. “You must be Polly Grey, my stylist speaks fondly of your taste, says you’re one of the only women in London who can pull off a daring look.”

 

She remains silent for a moment and meets your hand with hers. “Your stylist is right.” She says with a sly smile, and you give her a smile in return.

 

The last person at the table scares you more than the woman ever could. Not only was Thomas Shelby just as handsome and suave as you had heard, but his presence was just as powerful and commanding as Alfie’s was.

 

His cool piercing eyes roll over you and he gestures to the two empty chairs at the table, one of which Alfie pulls out for you while everyone sits. Once your seated Thomas puts his hand in the air and a man rushes to the table.

 

“Yes sir?”

 

“I’ll be needing another bottle, and Mr. Solomons and his date here will be opening a tab, this is a fundraiser after all.” Thomas picks up his glass of whisky and downs the last bit, turning his gaze out to the crowd of people mingling.

 

“Bottle of red, somethin’ nice for me lady, and whisky for me.” Once Alfie is finished the boy takes off to the bar.

 

“Now, how’d a pretty young thing like you get pulled in by an old mean bastard like Alfie here?” Arthur asks, taking a swig straight from his bottle, not even bothering with the alcohol still in his glass.

 

“My father made some jewelry for him, and I was helping in the shop one day when Alfie walked in.” You let your hand slip into his on the table, all eyes except Thomas’s darting to the connection, Thomas kept his eyes focused elsewhere. “He certainly was intimidating, but he was charming, and powerful, and he has excellent taste in jewelry,” you say, wiggling the fingers of the hand that wore your engagement ring.

 

“Let us see,” Polly says, extending a hand, you reach your hand across the table, hovering it over hers and she inspects the ring. She lets out a low whistle and you notice John's eyes flash over the stone. “God Lord, now that’s a ring.”

 

Alfie grunts in agreement as the man returns with a tray carrying a bottle of wine, a bottle of whisky and a glass for each. He empties the tray onto the table and leaves once more. Alfie releases your hand and pours your wine first, handing you the filled glass and moving to pour himself a shallow glass of whisky.

 

You sip your wine and set the glass on the table. You notice that Thomas’s attention is no longer focuses out, but is now on you and Alfie. He knew something that no one else at the table knew, you thought, something specific, and you could practically feel it slamming against the inside of his head, trying to get out. Seeing that behind those steady eyes scared you more than Alfie ever had.

 

His eyes flick over from Alfie taking a sip from his glass to you and after a beat of eye contact, he gives you a knowing smile. It’s not a big smile, frankly it’s barely a smile at all, but it carries all of the meaning neaded. You had been approved. You lift your glass toward him slightly miming a cheers and he take his own glass up. You sip simultaneously, and replace your glasses on the table. Alfie glances over at you, and you slip your hand back into his, giving a small squeeze.

 

Alfie lifts his free hand and two of the men who had loaded your things into the van the day you moved out appear by his side. He curls his fingers and the taller of the two men curls down for Alfie to whisper in his ear. You hadn’t even realized that any of Alfie’s men were there, but you attributed that to your naivety, of course he wouldn’t go to a place like this without some kind of backup.

 

Polly reaches across the table and pats the back of your hand to bring your attention to her. You look up and she gives you a cat like smile. “Let’s say you and I run off to the ladies room a moment, let the boys talk business.” You nod and wonder if maybe she knows what Tommy knows as well. You give Alfie’s hand one last squeeze, his head turning to watch you stand with Polly. She loops her arm through yours and pulls you away from the table with her.

 

When you arrive, the other women inside the extravagantly decorated bathroom clear out at the sight of Polly. She untangles her arm from yours and moves into the room off the room you you entered which held the bathroom stalls. There were couches and ottomans and bathroom attendants and it was by far the nicest bathroom you had ever been in. Frankly you were surprised it was still considered a bathroom.

 

Three more women skitter out of the room Polly had just gone in, and out of the bathroom altogether. A moment later Polly walks back into the room, an unlit cigarette hanging loosely from her lips. You pull the small matchbook you had from your purse and move over to Polly at the mirrors, offering her a freshly lit match. She leans in and lights her cigarette, taking a puff and and turning back to the mirror. “Thank you, doll,” Polly says, the cigarette now securely between two of her fingers, as she digs through her small purse with her free hand.

 

You follow suit, pulling out a little compact of powder you had brought with you, looking into the mirror and taking the shine off your nose and cheeks. You replace the compact and pull out the soft nude color lipstick you were wearing, touching up your lips as well.

 

“So tell me, how’s Alfie in bed? I must ask, I have wondered for so long now.” Polly inquires, leaning her hip against the side of the sink she stands at, taking another drag from her cigarette.

 

You’re thankful for the fresh powder concealing your soft blush. “I wouldn’t know yet,” You admit. While you didn’t know this woman very well, you had a feeling she was too clever to lie to, no matter how small the lie. “He’s respecting my wishes to wait until marriage.”

 

“Oh dear, you’re going to buy the cow without trying the milk?” Polly laughs and puts a hand on your shoulder. She reaches up and tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “You’re young, but you’re smart, I can tell. You’ll be okay, but you need to start figuring it out now.” She takes another drag from her cigarette, and gestures for you to follow her. You watch her move to one of the fainting couches, and you follow her, sitting at a square ottoman across from the couch.

 

“I like you, not sure why, maybe you remind me of myself. Maybe I’m desperate to cling to your youth, live through you. I might feel sorry for you, being pulled into all this, but I want to see you do well.” She takes another puff and ashes the cigarette in a crystal ashtray on the table between you. “Us women we don’t fight with our fists like these men do. They were in the war, it’s all they know, they can’t move past it, it won’t let ‘em. So it becomes our job to move ‘em along, keep ‘em in this world, not that one. We have to filter them, they just want to beat the crap out of each other. We can make them stop and use their words, act more constructively. Lord knows I’ve hands my hands full with my boys, and no doubt your boy is just as fucked as mine are.” She finishes her cigarette, abandoning the butt to the ashtray and runs her hand through her hair.

 

“You’re in the business with them?” You ask, watching Polly pull another cigarette from her case, she reaches across and offers it to you. You accept it, placing it between your lips and you pull out your matches. You light another match and offer it to the end of her fresh cigarette. You light your own and flick the matches remains into the ashtray.

 

“Ha!” Polly laughs loudly. “They’re in business with me girlie. “These men love to think they’re the free thinkers of the century, but without us women they’d barely think to wipe their asses. Well maybe except your Alfie there, he’s gone a while without a woman and done quite well. Tommy knows though, it’s why he made Alfie find you.”

 

You cough on the smoke, but not because you can’t inhale it. “You know?”

 

“Course I do doll, I know everything Thomas does, sometimes even before he does. You keep the act up well though, you’ll do just fine. You make sense for Alfie, no one will question it.” You wondered if Alfie knew Polly was in on the arrangement, and if he did, why he hadn’t mentioned that to you. But of course Alfie knew Polly knew, he didn’t tell you so you could prove yourself to her, prove your loyalty as well as Alfie’s.

 

“Does anyone else in your family know?” You take a drag and thank the nicotine for replacing the buzz of nervous energy with something else. You could see why Polly carried them with her.

 

“Just Thomas and I.”

 

“Alfie said Thomas doesn’t trust him. He won’t tell me anymore than that.” You wish you had your glass of wine as well, but settle for another puff.

 

“Thomas doesn’t trust anyone that’s not blood, and even then it can be rocky. Alfie and Thomas have a strained relationship, mostly because Alfie strains it. But Thomas understands it, respects it. They’re killers, cheaters and liars. Thomas is lucky Alfie didn’t kill him on the spot the first time he walked into his office Thomas wouldn’t be what he is if Alfie hadn’t given him that shot. That’s why no matter the shit Alfie pulled, Thomas understood. Arthur on the other hand. Arthur’s heads too full of muck for understanding right now.” She finishes her cigarette and you take a last pull from yours before placing it in the ashtray as well. Polly stands and walks to the mirror again. She messes with her hair while you walk over to check your reflection as well.

 

“Why are you telling me all of this, being kind to me. You don’t have any obligation to me.” You touch up your lipstick once more.

 

“Like I said before, maybe you remind me of myself, but I want to see you do well, and I know how to survive as a woman in this life.” She moves next to you and loops your arms once again. “Let’s get back out there before one of those men shoots someone.” You nod in agreement and let her pull you back out of the bathroom, a line of women entering as you left.

 

You return to the table to find Alfie and Thomas gone, and two women in each Arthur’s and John’s laps. “They had to step out in some business,” Arthur informs you. You take your seat again and pick up your glass of wine, taking a long drink.

 

By the time Alfie and Thomas return you’ve dranken just over the half of bottle of wine and are laughing along with the women at a story Arthur has been telling for the last twenty minutes. You look up at Alfie as they approach, his face cool and emotionless, much like Thomas’s. Alfie takes his seat and you finish yet another glass of the wine.

 

Alfie does as Alfie had every time your glass was empty round him, and refills it. “Thank you,” You say with a giggle, you’re sure your cheeks are flush from the alcohol. Alfie swirls the liquid around in the bottle.

 

“You and your red wine,” He comments, and you notice he hadn’t touched his bottle or glass since that first drink before you left.

 

You give Alfie a sweet, somewhat tipsy smile and pick up your glass again. “Thank you,” you say, taking another drink. Alfie chuckles, and leans back in his chair. You move to take his hand in yours once again, and notice that his previously clean and kept nails were, dirty? You couldn’t tell if it was mud or dried blood accumulated under his nails, or just how it had gotten there. Alfie looks over at you and for a moment, just a few seconds, his composure of cool and emotionless breaks, and you get a genuine smile from him. Not one out of courtesy or tied to his laughter. A smile of kindness and friendship. You slide your hand into his and Alfie’s thumb moves back and forth over the back of your hand.

 

“Lookit you lovebirds!” Arthur yells before taking another long drink from his bottle, immediately Alfie’s faces becomes one of annoyance. “Give us a kiss!” Arthur gestures to the two of you with his bottle, the liquid sloshing around wildly. All eyes at the table dart to you, and the women who had joined you and John all cheer in agreement.

 

“Go on then! Warm your frozen heart there!” John says, he and Arthur laughing. The irritation is coming off Alfie in waves, you could tell he would prefer to solely work with Thomas. Alfie’s free hand clenched into a fist, which you had already learned was a telltale sign of a fit of Alfie Solomons style rage.

 

You remember what Polly had told you just a couple of hours ago in the bathroom, about keeping them out of the war, keeping them in the here and now. And maybe it was that which determined your next course of action, or maybe it was the ¾ bottle of wine in your system, but you removed you hand from Alfie’s and place it on Alfie’s bicep. He turn his attention to you, his fist unclenching slightly and you reach up and place your hand on his neck, and before you can stop yourself, you lean over and connect your lips.

 

You would be lying if you said you hadn’t wondered what his plush ample lips felt like on yours, but the real thing was much better than you could have imagined. The kiss isn’t long, but it’s tender and sweet, and reignites that buzz low in your belly, which you had felt the first time you had seen him. When you pull back, Alfie keeps his eyes on yours and the girls and their drunken counterparts all cheer. Polly smiles and sips her drink while Thomas smiles, but not with the same sentiment as the others.

 

Alfie’s hand takes yours again after you move to sit back how you were before. You take another sip of wine as Arthur begins telling another story, John correcting him that they had been drinking rum, not whisky, the night the events Arthur illustrated took place.

 

It wasn’t much longer after that John took his girl off to dance and Arthur took his off for much more private activity. You finish your bottle of wine, well buzzed by the time Alfie checks his pocket watch and notes that he has an early morning, and the two of you had to be going.

 

Polly stands as you do and gives you a quick hug. “Don’t be a stranger,” She says softly into your ear before stepping back. You nod and move to Thomas who remained seated, a lot cigarette hanging from his lips.

 

“It was very nice to meet you Mr. Shelby, please tell your brothers the same,” You offer an extended hand and Thomas stands and shakes it.

 

“You as well,” He says after taking his cigarette in his free hand. “Alfie,” He says once he releases you hand.

 

“Tommy,” Alfie says, shaking his hand once before releasing it.

 

Alfie offers you his bent arm and you slip your arm into his, thankful for the help walking, you had been sitting the whole time you drank, walking now was a different ball game. You weren’t as drunk as the boys had been, but it had been some time since you had drank that much. Alfie gets your coats and helps you into yours, and before you know it, your back in the car on your way home.

 

You wanted to sit next to Alfie and lean against him, perhaps it was your drunkenness that made the yearning so strong. All you could think as you rode along in silence was how much better that would be, than sitting against the cool metal door on your side of the car.

 

“Did I do well?” You ask, your filter obviously lacking due to the drink.

 

Alfie laughs, “Yes, you did fine. Polly seemed to approve. She’s got them gypsy powers they think. She can read people well they tell me, and I have yet to see her welcomin’ of a newcomer.” Alfie looks you up and down in your seat. “I haven’t yet decided what I think of her. What do you think of her?”

 

“She was kind to me when we went to the powder room together. Gave me some advice on being around men like you and Mr. Shelby. She said I might remind her of herself when she was young.” You fiddle with the hem of your coat sleeve as you talk. Being alone with Alfie while in your current state was proving difficult. You were almost afraid to look back at his face again, at his lips and beard and mustache that tickled your skin. But now you were alone so there was no need for such intimacy, in Alfie’s words.

 

“And what did she tell you about men like Thomas and me?” Alfie asks, turning his whole body toward yours in his seat.

 

“She said you’re all full of muck in your heads from the war. It’s why you’re in the business you’re both in. You’re minds are molded for war now, so it’s how you think, how you operate. Us women weren’t in the war, we see ordinary life where you see a battlefield, and sometimes you men need a reminding that your not still at war, at least not like you were. You need help thinking past what’s the next strike to make. Though you might be at war, you can get lost in it, lose your grip. Says you’ve gone the longest without seein’ the world as more than war.”

 

“So I’m needin’ a woman to bring me back? Clear me head?” You cautiously look up at Alfie and he laughs heartily. “That woman’s head is full of muck.”

 

You smile and laugh softly. “Maybe,” you say, relaxing back into your seat. “But I don’t know if that means she’s wrong.” Exhaustion hits you in a wave and your eyelids feel much heavier than they had a moment before.

 

“You think a woman can clear the muck out of me head?” Alfie asks, and you can tell he’s only partially asking rhetorically.

 

“Not if you don’t give one the chance to,” You yawn again, leaning against the door, pulling your jacket up to cushion your head against the window. You let your eyes flutter shut and sleep creeps up to you.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Alfie scoops up your heavily sleeping body when the car stops at the house. He instructs Ruth to get his cane from the car as he slowly carries your body through the threshold as Ruth hold the door open for him. Your slow heavy breaths are soothing to his ears as he ascends the staircase, his sciatica pain acting up, but not nearly enough to keep him from getting you into your bed.

You moan softly in your sleep as he reaches the second floor and he pauses, the sweet sound warming his chest. Hw shakes his head and continues toward your room.

 

He could hardly believe how soundly you were sleeping, but red wine often had the same effect on him in his youth. As he opens the door to your room, your head snuggles into his chest and he moves his eyes back up from your form. He struggles a moment to pull back the blankets of your bed, but once he has he lays you down gently. You roll over and Alfie uses the opportunity to pull your heavy jacket off, and your little black kitten heels, not even considering taking anything else off of you, he would never violate you so, he promised you and himself. He pulls the blankets back over you in that dress that made you look like the night sky, he decided it was one of his favorites Jimmy had fitted you of the ones he had seen.

 

You moan again and Alfie works to convince himself that it hadn’t been his name he heard. He decides he had better leave before he further invades your privacy and let’s himself out of your room, the door clicking shut softly behind him. He finds Ruth in the hall, his cane holding his weight again a moment later.

 

“Will you be needin’ anything else tonight sir?”

 

“No thank you,” He says, moving past the older woman, “Eliza will be needin’ some tablets in the mornin’, or at least some water. She drank more than she has in a while I think. Probably would like a bath as well when she wakes up.”

 

“Of course sir,” Ruth says, moving toward the staircase.

 

Alfie pauses, “I’ll be gone early tomorrow, make a car ready by six. Have another ready for her as well. Recommend she go see her sister or somethin’ she needs time away from me, from here.”

 

“Of course sir,” Ruth repeats before defending the stairs. Alfie continues down the hall toward his room, doing his best to get safely behind the doors, as guilt rips at his chest. He had already begun to ruin you and it had barely been a week, he thinks to himself. He had been so selfish to choose you, he shoulda found some prostitute and paid her to pretend. Not taken the chance at a fair and normal life away from a girl who deserved one.

 

He leaves his jacket on the fainting couch in his room, shedding his sport coat and vest as well. He moves into his bathroom and tosses back two of his sciatica tablets. He splashes his face with water and desperately tries to clear you from his mind, but it’s a futile attempt, just as it had been the day he saw you.

 

He stares at his reflection in the mirror above the sink for as long as he can stand it, but sees only a cruel selfish man. How could you ever fix him, he wonders. He would only serve to squash your light if you tried. Polly was right though, about the war in his head, in all of their heads, but no pair of tits or kind heart could fix it, that he knew.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You wake up in your clothes from the night before, minus your jacket and shoes. The last thing you remembered was getting into the car to go home with Alfie. Your incredibly thirsty and are relieved to find a tray with a cup and pitcher of water on your bedside table. You ignore the headache tablets, as you weren’t quite hungover and down two glasses of water.

 

You get up and move into your bathroom and notice that all of your oils and soaps had been refilled. You grab a bottle of rose bath oil and turn on the faucet, steaming water filling the great porcelain tub. You slip out of your dress from the night before, and all of new undergarments you had worn and step into the hot water, sitting in the shallow pool of water as it continues to rise.

 

You lean your head back and breathe in the light rose scented steam that was swirling into the air. You reach up and let the rest of your hair down, letting the clips that held it in place fall to the floor. You rest your arms on the side of the tub and close your eyes. You think back to the night before and immediately your brain reminds you of the pressure of Alfie’s lips on yours. Your eyes shoot open and your face flushes, you sink lower into the rising water in embarrassment.

 

You could not believe that barely a bottle of wine had made you so courageous. Seeing Alfie again sure was going to be difficult. You hoped you hadn’t crossed a line, kissing him in front of the Shelby’s like that, or kissing him at all for that matter. You try to remember how he seemed after the kiss, but it was all too foggy. You try to trust that if he seemed upset or uncomfortable you would have remembered that.

 

You push all thoughts of Alfie from your mind and focus on restoring yourself. When you leave the bathroom in your robe, your hair up in a towel, you find Ruth clearing away the tray on your bedside table. “Good afternoon miss, how’d you sleep?”

 

“Afternoon?” You glance at the clock, which reads just after one o’clock. You hadn’t realized you slept so late, you must’ve needed it after the long night.

 

“You and Alfie came in quite late. He was out of the house by 6 in the mornin’ though, I swear that man never sleeps. We saved lunch for you though, come down whenever you would like. I also prepared a car in case you wanted to head into town or anything.” Ruth smiles and heads for the door. You thank her just before she leaves.

 

You dress in a dark red cotton knee length skirt and a soft white button up blouse with a delicate lace collar. You slide on a pair of matching red mary janes and leave your hair falling naturally. You add a silver bracelet, your necklace you always wore, and your ring from Alfie and select a handbag for the day. You find your clutch from the night before on your desk and empty it’s contents including the gun into the new bag. You call Serena to make sure she still didn’t have work and tell her to get dressed and that you would be there soon.

 

After eating a quick lunch of a sandwich and small salad you grab a light jacket and head out the door to the car Ruth arranged for you. Standing outside of it is one of the men from moving in and the night before.

 

“Sorry I haven’t introduced meself yet,” He says moving to open the door for you. I’m Nathan, Alfie assigned me to assist you on your outings.”

 

You offer him your hand to shake and he’s taken aback for a moment. “Eliza, nice to meet you Nathan.” He shakes you hand timidly, as though you would break if he shook too hard, and gives you a nervous smile. You get into the back of the car and Nathan climbs into the front.

 

“Where we headed madam?”

 

“My family home. We’re picking my sister up just across the street.” You lean against the car door as it starts up and drives away from the house, looking out the window and focusing on the scenery as you make your way toward the city.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

You spent the day with Serena first going to the museum, then to the park, and and out shopping afterward. You decide to have dinner with your family, calling Alfie’s house with the phone number Nathan gives you from your parents phone. You notify Ruth that you won’t be eating there that night and she informs you that Alfie also called out of dinner, so it wasn’t a big deal.

 

Eating with your family is nice, it’s wonderful to see them all and have time to cook with your mother, joke with your father and bounce your nephew on your knee. You invite Nathan for dinner as well but he insists on waiting out in the car.

 

You tell your family of the house staff and their kindness and the paintings in your room. Your mother and sister fawn over your new clothes and the description of your room and most importantly the bathtub. You opt to not speak of meeting the Shelby’s or about the gun in your purse.

 

You eat dessert and even stay for a cup of tea, almost dreading the idea of heading back to the house, but you can’t stay forever. After hugs and kisses you return to the car and inform Nathan you’re ready to go home.

 

When you arrive back at the house you find Ruth tidying your study. “Welcome home Madam, how was your day?”

 

“Very nice actually. Spent it with family, didn’t realize how much I missed them.” You move over to the desk and pull out some pens to take up with you to your room for some nightly drawing before bed. “Is Alfie around?” You try and sound as casual as possible, rummaging around in a drawer for nothing in particular.

 

“No, he called just after you did and said he wouldn’t be around the house for the next couple days. Has some business to attend to out of town I think. He left some cash for you, incase you need it for anything. Says it’s in one of the purses in your closet, wouldn’t say which though.” You nod, a feeling of deflation settles in your chest.

 

“Thank you Ruth, I’m going to head to my room. Goodnight.” You take your pens in one hand and your purse in the other and head for the door.

 

“Goodnight!” Ruth lilts as you leave the room.


	8. To be Alone

While Alfie is away you fill your time with walks through the fields and nearby patches of forest, painting and drawing things both in and outside of your house, and spending time with your family. You call Joseph several times but get no answer, and when you stopped by your father’s store one day you are told he took the week off. You go shopping with Jimmy one day and he teaches you the trends, what’s coming in and going out, what looks best on your skin tone and eye color.

 

You even eat lunch with Millie and Robert in the kitchen one day, noticing their innocent and unspoken love for one and other. Robert acted like he couldn’t care less for the girl, but still did sweet small things for her, like saving half of his slice of cake for her before she even asked for it.

 

When you were out with Jimmy shopping you came across a beautiful linen apron with hand embroidered light blue flower and free leaf edges, and immediately bought it for Ruth with some of the money Alfie had left. Giving it to her made your day. Her face lit up and her eyes watered a bit and she refused to accept it at first, but after very little prodding she agreed to take it. She told you she would save it for special occasions, which set the two of you off planning the wedding.

 

You agreed on a formal navy, black and white color scheme with small silver embellishments throughout the decor. The wedding wouldn’t be very big, it was more of a formality than a celebration really. You order white wisteria and blue hydrangeas for the decor and a bouquet of blue larkspur and white roses. Alfie hadn’t given anyone a date yet so you just wrote a list of guests to invite but only came up with seven people from your life who you would care to be there. You called your sister and asked her to be your maid of honor and she was ecstatic. You called Jimmy and asked him to prepare a suit for Alfie with the appropriate colors and embellishments and he was ecstatic. The only person you didn’t talk to about your wedding to Alfie, was Alfie.

 

You ask occasionally of Ruth or Nathan if they heard from him at all, and it’s not until the fifth day of his absence that you get the reply you were hoping for. As you’re being driven home from taking Charles to the museum you ask Nathan if he had heard anything about when Alfie would be back.

 

“Yeah. This mornin’ he called to have a car sent out for him. Said he would be back by tea.” At first you’re upset you hadn’t found out earlier so you could have worn something nicer than the casual drop waist dark purple dress you were wearing, but then you became upset that you cared so much about how you looked for him.

 

“How lovely,” you say, keeping your tone even and somewhat detached. Nathan glances at you in the rear view mirror, and you give him a polite smile. As you draw nearer to the house you consider smoking a cigarette to balance your nervous energy, but decide you don’t wish to smell like smoke when you see Alfie.

 

When you get to the house you make your way to your study, walking by the cracked door to Alfie’s, hoping he hadn’t notice you walked by, so you could go check your makeup.

 

“Eliza?” Alfie voice calls out of his study the moment you place your hand on the knob to your study. You sigh softly and walk to his door, getting your first look at one of Alfie’s rooms. It’s dark red walls match the dark cherrywood furniture and flooring. It’s masculine and powerful just as Alfie is, a true reflection of his personality.

 

Ornate gold frames hold more painting which you had only seen recreations of. Two sit on the wall directly behind Alfie which provide beautiful juxtaposition of Alfie’s sense of being. The one to the left is The Colossus by De Goya and to the right Circe Invidiosa by John Waterhouse. You pull back your astonishment and focus back on Alfie as he waves you in , who makes his chair feel more  like a throne to you.

 

“How was your trip?” You ask, moving into his study and to a chair on the other side of his desk from him.

 

“Fine, everything went just as I expected it to. How was your week?” He leans back in his chair and you find yourself thrown off a little, there was no way he had called you in here for casual conversation.

 

“Good, started planning the wedding, spent time with my family, painted some, sketched some.” You let your eyes roll over Alfie, he was more tan than he had been when he left, cuts and bruises decorated his uncovered forearms, and his beard had been trimmed back slightly shorter than it had been. Something was different in him, you couldn’t place your finger on just what, but it was there now.

 

“Good, I’m glad you filled your time.” Alfie picks up a paper from his desk and you recognize it as the list of names for wedding invitations. “Is this the whole guest list?”

 

“Well everyone I wanted to invite. Just my family, Joseph and Jimmy. I know you wanted to keep it small and I’m fine with that, prefer it actually. I don’t know who from your family was coming or if the Shelby’s were coming-,”

 

“No family of mine, or the Shelby’s. This will be the guest list then. I’ll have invitations sent out tomorrow, the wedding will be a week from tomorrow.” Alfie replaces the paper on the table and furrows his brows before looking up at you. You wondered why Alfie wasn’t inviting any of his family, but you realize beside his mother he had never talked about them. You wondered if he even had any. “Now, it will be a traditional Jewish wedding of course, except I see no need to observe the Yichud.”

 

You blush and feel the same deflating feeling you had felt when your found out Alfie had left. Of course there was no need to observe the seclusion of the two of you after the ceremony and before the celebration to consummate the marriage when then marriage was a sham anyway. “Of course,” you say softly, casting your eyes up to look at Circe in all her glory on the wall behind Alfie. After a moment you look back at Alfie, whose eyes are locked on you. “Is there anything else?”

 

Alfie chuckles lightly and leans forward on his forearms. “How are you at painting replicas?”

 

“What do you mean?” Your brow furrows and you sit up straighter.

 

“In the back of your father’s shop there’s a painting on the wall, a Renoir landscape, except it’s not Renoir, it’s a Fisher.” You hadn’t thought about that painting for quite some time. From time to time as gifts to friends and family you would recreate a favorite painting of theirs, or one that reminded you of them, and you had to admit, you were good.

 

“I’ve done it before a few times, why do you ask?” You were confused to say the least. Alfie obviously had no problem getting his hands on the originals, what would he need some cheap knockoffs for?

 

“Would you be opposed to recreating some paintings for me?” You notice his tone is sweeter and and more enticing than usual. You can’t help but laugh at his antics.

 

“What in the world would you do with them? You seem to have no problem getting your hands on the real thing.” You gesture at the two stunning masterpieces on display behind him.

 

“Well it would have been a lot easier to steal these if I had fakes to replace them with.” You’re floored by how casually he admits to the theft of the pieces and you begin to wonder if that was also the fate of your Monet paintings.

 

“Will I be paid?” You we’re all for the public consumption of art, you frequented many museums to see the same pieces over and over again, but if you were putting art in the places you were taking from, then you wouldn’t really be taking, would you?

 

“Handsomely. I know what I am asking is not a small request and I recognize your respect for the craft. I just thought you have a talent for painting, I have one for stealing and the unsavory that comes with it, why don’t we exploit these for profit?” He had a point, plus it would give your time at the house a purpose, something you were missing in those days you spend without Alfie.

 

“I need to sleep on it.” Alfie drums his fingers on his desk and glances over at the clock on the wall.

 

“I don’t usually allow that,” He says, looking back to you. “But I can make an exception for my wife I guess.” He smiles a charming smile and laughs lightly, and you can't help but think back to your kiss again. Your gaze involuntary falls to his lips for a moment before you bring them back to his eyes. Whatever had changed had made his soul lighter, you thought.

 

“I believe Ruth was setting the table for tea when I came in, care to join me?” You ask, hoping to spend time with Alfie while you had something else to focus on.

 

“Of course,” Alfie says as he stands.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

You lay in bed that night, your chance at sleeping well long gone. You wish you could say it was your indecision on working with Alfie keeling you awake but it was mostly the thought of Alfie.You had never experienced such turmoil over another person before. You accepted the fact that you were physically attracted to him, trying to blame the kiss for it all, though you knew he was just as handsome and brooding before.

 

You roll over onto your side and kick your blankets off, as you were much warmer than before. It wasn’t a crush, you had crushes on boys in school and it was never like this, more of something to talk about with your girlfriends over lunch. This was such a different ballpark, that you were playing an entirely different sport.

 

You had options in it though, and you needed to make a decision about how to deal with however you felt. You could ignore it and hope it went away, but this whole time the feeling had grown stronger, and you would bet it would only continue to do so. You could give into it. You could live for the small acts of public intimacy like kisses and guiding touches from Alfie’s hand. You could offer yourself up to him. You were his wife after all, and he’s a man with needs and urges, and if he ever needed your, assistance, you could be there.

 

None of those were enough though, not what you wanted. He didn’t even want to observe Yichud during your wedding. He would rather not consummate your marriage in the eyes of God, as was required of a Jewish wedding. You know it meant nothing to him, a thief and a killer, to go against your shared faith in such a way, but you had dreamed of your wedding day, including the seclusion. You wondered if your parents would be thankful you skipped such tradition or feel the rejection you did.

 

You thought back to your conversation with Serena in your room, would a child be part of the equation at some point? Probably not, Alfie didn’t even want a wife. Though you knew if he did you would be happy to fulfill his wish. You let your mind wander, specifically to Alfie’s broad chest and strong hands. How it might feel to have those hands on your bare skin. How those magnificent lips and mustache would tickle your neck.

 

You groan loudly and roll into your back. You sit up and flick on the lamp next to your bed, if it was going to be a sleepless night you may as well be some form of productive. You collect your art supplies from around your room and find you have everything you need, except something to paint on. You grab a white silk robe from your closet, and pull it on over the light pink slip you had worn to bed.

 

Stepping into the hall you pause a moment, listening to the silence of the house breathing while everyone else was asleep. You focus your eyes down the hall to Alfie’s bedroom door and see no light shining from underneath. You quietly make your way down the stairs and around to the left toward your study, your bare feet tiptoeing across the cold wooden floor. You pause just before Alfie’s study, where light is being cast out from the gap between the door and the floor.

 

You step onto the long rug that extends the length of the hallway, thanking it for cushioning and silencing your steps. You sneak by Alfie’s door and slowly open the door to your study, leaving it partially cracked behind you. You flick on a light and scurry over to the stack of canvases in the closet near your desk. You select a few different canvases of varying size and and step back out of the closet, slamming into a broad shouldered silhouette as you turn to leave.  

 

Before you stumble backward and fall on your ass, a hand darts out and grabs your upper arm, catching you as your canvases tumble to the floor. Once you have your balance back you attempt to pull your arm from your saviors grip, but to no avail. You look up and see a somewhat disheveled Alfie, a stripe of ink over his brow as if he has been rubbing it in without knowing. His suspenders hang from his waist, his shirt untucked and partially unbuttoned, more ink wiped into the shirt. His hair was messy and his bifocals hung off his neck at an angle.

 

“What do you think you’re doing?” His voice is deeper and more terrifying than usual, his breath heavy with the smell of cigarette smoke.

 

“I couldn’t sleep,” you barely get out, your voice cracking. “I was going to paint.”

 

“I mean sneaking around the house.” His tight grip on your arm lossens but you don’t pull away. “I thought you were an intruder, I could’ve hurt you. This is your home too, there’s no need to tread so gently.” His eyes move to his hand on your arm and back to your eyes. He shakes his head and releases you. After a deep breath he bends down and picks up your canvases.

 

“Thank you,” you says softly as he hands them back to you.

 

“I’m sorry to have frightened you. I didn’t mean to get so angry. I was afraid you were going to be hurt. I had no intention to be the one who hurt you.” Now that the anger was gone from his voice you hear the authenticity and exhaustion in his words.

 

“It’s okay, I understand, I apologize.” You reach up with your free hand and pat his upper arm. As you do so the loose knot of the sash keeping your robe together comes undone. As the cool air hits you, you feel your nipples harden under the soft satin of your slip. You curse in your head and watch as Alfie’s gaze momentarily flicks downward and back up to your face. You move your canvases up to cover your chest and wrap your arms around them.

 

Alfie coughs softly, clearing his throat, “No need to apologize, I’m just not used to anyone else being up so late here.” He steps back and drags his hand through his hair. “You goin’ to do some painting?” He gestures toward the canvases and you furrow your brow. He was nervous again, you were obviously going to do some paintings, and Alfie wouldn’t waste breath to ask an obvious question.

 

You can’t help but smile, he had acted this far in ways which protected your modesty. No raunchy jokes like the other men had made to their companions when you were out, no Yichud as it meant you could no longer align yourself in that way. The sentiment was sweet, but you were your own adult woman, who could make decisions herself, not a child who’s innocence was his concern. Confusion pours over Alfie’s face and he scratches at his beard.

 

“What are you lookin’ at me like that for?” Your affinity for pushing boundaries and self-gratification causes you to lower the canvases, bringing them back down by your hip. Alfie keeps his eyes up this time though, not glancing down once, but crosses his arms over his own chest, not only in a however subconscious act of putting a physical barrier between the two of you, but restraining himself as well.

 

“Like what?” If Alfie was going to treat you like an innocent, naive young girl then you would act in such a way. It may be immature of you, but that’s what he obviously thought of you.

 

“Nothin’,” Alfie says, turning to leave. You smile again and follow him through your study, turning the light off before closing the door behind you. Without a word, Alfie heads into his study, leaving the door open behind him.

 

You lean against the door jam and watch him move over to his desk, sitting down with a grunt. He looks up at you, his eyes taking extra time to move up your body and meet your gaze. He raises his eyebrows and shakes his head softly as if to ask you what you were doing.

 

“Goodnight, Alfie.” Once again he pauses longer than usual, processing your simple statement.

 

“Goodnight, Eliza. Sleep well.” He looks back down on the stack of papers before him.

 

“Alfie?” You ask, not moving any further into the study.

 

“Yes?” He keeps his attention down on his work, that is until a few seconds pass with no reply and he looks up at you, removing the bifocals he had just placed on his nose.

 

“I’ll do it, the paintings.”

 

Alfie gives you a close mouth smile, “You didn’t even sleep on it though.”

 

You shrug, “Couldn't sleep.” Alfie gets up from the desk, taking up a slip of paper and grabbing his cane this time as he walks over to you. Your eyes track him as he crosses the room, and you hated how appealing he looked, all messy and undone. If you had any prior experience in the matter, you would have helped him become more undone.

 

He stops a couple feet from you, “Welcome to the business.” He extends his hand which you gladly accept and shake, savoring the connection. You let go of his hand and he gives you the slip of paper. “Your first assignment. Let see what you can do.”

 

You turn, leaving him to his work. You feel his eyes on you ask you walk away. You only smile once you’ve turned the corner and began up the stairs.

 

You paint until the early morning, falling asleep only when you’re too exhausted to look any longer at anything, let alone have the integrity to paint. You painted his hands, one with them scribbling away in his notebook. Another of them clenched into fists, bruised and bloody. One of them pouring wine into a glass, dainty in comparison. The fourth you couldn’t complete though, nothing you tried painted looked quite right with it. You slide the paintings face down in a stack under your bed, inside of a pillowcase you took off of one from your bed.

 

You dream of those hands, wrapped around you as you lay in a soft plush bed, his chest against your back. Of them resting on your thighs as you sit on a blanket in the sunshine reading poetry to him while he lays between your legs, one of your hands playing with his curls. Of them lathering soap over your skin as you bathe together. You sleep deeply and well that night, waking up in a better mood than you had in a long time.


	9. To Solomons Bakery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliza catches a glimpse into the ugly side of life with Alfie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/CW: VIOLENCE/DEATH. 
> 
> There’s some violence in this chapter, at the very beginning. Its not an extremely detailed instance, but for the sake of being safe here’s a TW/CW
> 
> Sorry if this is a bad TW/CW it’s the first i’ve written.

“Personally I love maroon, but the peach is so youthful,” a sales girl says, holding two blouses up on their hangers. You think a moment, trying to remember  Jimmy’s advice, but to no avail. 

 

“I’ll just take them both I guess.” You smile as she nods and the two of you move the the counter where the cash register is located. It’s getting fairly late, the sun already setting. You had been shopping the entire day, the wedding was drawing nearer and you needed a break from planning it. Alfie sent you into town this morning with a purse full of cash. 

 

Just as you take your bags, you glance out the window to your car, the doors were thrown open, and immediately you’re on alert. From behind the a car you watch two men drag Nathan by the arm and hair along the ground. 

 

“Do you have a back exit?” You ask the girl quickly. 

 

“Yes-,”

 

“There are men outside and I think they’re coming for me. Lock the door behind me and the front one the second I leave,” You interrupt her. Her eyes grow wide. You were thankful you were the only other person in the small shop. She points behind you to your left with a shaky hand. “I’ll pick these up later.” You drop the bag on the counter and stick your hand in your purse, thankful for its long strap on your shoulder. You feel for the handle of the gun and move quickly to the back of the shop, finding the door to the alley. Through the small window on the door you see the two men standing, Nathan’s bruised and bloodied face looking up at them from his kneeling position on the ground.

 

The man with the gun in his hand raises the barrel of his weapon even with Nathan’s forehead, and your stomach flips. You have one chance to get it right. You place your hand on the door, thankful it would open between you and the men, providing some semblance of protection in the short length of ally you would need to run down to get around the corner and away from them. The man cocks the gun and as you see his finger squeeze you throw open the door, your feet pounding on the packed dirt ally floor. 

 

A loud bang sounds behind you, and you hear a one of the men yell, a set of feet taking off behind you.  There’s another shot, but it hits the brick wall of the building you had just turned past. You only had an idea of where Alfie’s Bakery was, you had never actually been there, but it couldn’t be very far, it was Camden after all. You quickly look behind you. The man has his gun down, but is hot in your trail, but you were quick. You were thankful you had enjoyed running in your youth, your stamina coming in handy. You sprint across the street, a car honking as it nearly hits you. 

 

You reach the canal and instinctively go right, the direction Ollie had ran the night out went out to the club with Alfie. You speed by men heading home from work for the day, but Alfie had told you that morning he would be gone late, and not to expect him for dinner. 

 

Another shot rings out and you stumble, but right your footing before you fall. Like a beacon of light you see the sign for the Solomons Bakery and thank the heavens. A tall curly haired boy stands at a door in his apron smoking a cigarette. 

 

“Ollie!” You scream, his head flashing up, his eyes working hard to take in your grey jacketed silhouette against the fading light of the sky. He sees you running toward him in a panic, and confusion grows on his face. Then he adds together the sound of a shot he heard a minute ago and sees the man in the distance with the gun in his hand and pulls open the door he stands in front of. 

 

You bolt inside, Ollie following right behind you. Once the door is shut and you’re down the short flight of stairs,  you collapse to the ground, sobs overtaking you. “Someone get Alfie right fucking now!” Ollie hollers and you hear a pair of feet take off out of the room. “Alfie’s coming, hold on.” 

 

You hadn’t even seen Nathan get shot but the image of his face looking up to his killer was burned into your eyes. You begin praying in hebrew, reciting any prayer you can think of.  Prayers for Nathan, for your safety, for being alive. Your lips move fast and furiously, spilling the words into earth that your forehead pressed against, and your tears watered. You hear Ollie begin to speak as feet fall heavy entering the room. You pull your head up weakly to see Alfie stalking toward you. The prayers stop, but the tears keep flowing. He bends down and scoops you up off the floor, taking you in his arms, Ollie grabbing his cane as he abandons it to fall to the ground. 

 

“Sssh, sheifale (lamb). You’re safe,” Alfie speaks softly to you, his use of yiddish comforting you. He takes you through the underside of this building, your face pressed into his neck, your skin and tears staining his shirt with dirt and makeup. He takes you into a room and shuts the door behind the two of you. 

 

You’re set down on what you guess is a couch, and feel those hands you had studied so, come tenderly against the side of your face. You work to steady your breathing and calm yourself. You open your eyes and take in Alfie’s concerned expression, his familiar features and presence of strength and safety reassuring you. His thumbs wipe the tear from under your eyes and you gasp slightly, finally finding a break in your sobs to breath. 

 

You suck in another breath and feel yourself begin to calm. “There you are darlin’. You’re with me, you’re safe.” You try and reply but your throat burns from the running, and crying and praying. 

 

“Water,” You crack out softly. 

 

“Ollie! Water!” Alfie yells and you hear someone just outside of the room hurry quickly down the hall. You flinch at his volume and he apologizes, “I’m sorry, I won’t yell.” A moment later you hear the door open and look up to see Ollie set a pitcher and a glass on the table. Alfie pulls away and you moan at the loss of his hands, but they quickly return with a glass of water. “Can you sit up? Are you injured.” 

 

Ollie leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. You’re shaky but manage to push yourself up, to sit vertical on the couch. Alfie hands you the glass once you’re upright and you chug the water, it’s the best glass you’ve ever dranken. You hand it back to Alfie and a second later it’s refilled and being pushed toward you again. You sip more gently this time. 

 

“I’m not hurt,” You say between sips. “Nathan, he-,” you begin crying once again, and Alfie moves to the couch next to you. He goes to place a hand on your back but hesitates as though he’s afraid to touch you. You decide that’s tough luck for him, and push your body against his, giving him no choice but to wrap an arm around you. 

 

“Can you tell me what happened? You don’t have to tell me what happened to Nathan, just anything else you remember.” You nod and take another sip. Alfie takes the cup from your hand when you move to hand it to him.

 

You take a deep breath, “I was shopping, made him stop at just one more shop before we headed home.” You hold back the wave of tears at your eyes. “I looked out the window and saw the car, all of its doors were open, then I saw them drag Nathan to the alley. I found the back door to the alleyway. I waited ‘til they shot him to run, Alfie. The sound covered the sound of the door. I had to, it gave me a head start. I don’t know if I would have made it if-.” Alfie shushes you again and you’re thankful you don’t have to continue. 

 

“You did well sheifale, you did well.” His hand moves up to your head and cradles it against your chest, his thumb rubbing back and forth over your hair. You focus on the sound of Alfie’s heart beating in his chest, the rhythmic thumping giving your mind something else to focus on. You give in completely to focusing on Alfie, like you never had before. At this moment he was your lifeline to the now, keeping thoughts of Nathan from your mind. You listen to his breathing and the soft words he speaks every so often. You decide you enjoy the nickname he has given you in the moment.  

 

You sit like this for what feels like an eternity, and you’re fine with it, honestly you could have stayed like that for eternity, but you pull up from Alfie after a while. His eyes had been closed but he hadn’t been asleep. You realize Alfie had pulled you fully into his lap at some point, the two of you so close you had only taken up a fraction of the small couch. Alfie’s eyes open and he looks up at you from his recliner position on the couch. 

 

You continue to let your hand rest against his chest, the feeling of his body supporting yours makes sense. You fit together well, his broad chest and thick arms cradled your slender torso and willowy limbs. Alfie’s hand comes up, taking a handkerchief from his pocket on the way to your face. He gently wipes under your eyes, and along your jaw. 

 

“Let’s say you and I head home, yeah? Getting late innit?” You nod and move from his body. The two of you stand and Alfie hands you your glass again. “Hold on a minute.”

 

You stay put, sipping the water again. Alfie moves to the door, cracking it and sliding half of his body out of the door. You can hear him instruct Ollie and some men to get the car you and Nathan had taken as well as the body. He tells him to find and pay the owner of the store for their distress as well. 

 

He returns to the room and moves to the desk, sliding on his jacket and filling a briefcase with papers. He looks up at you as you finish the water and set your empty glass on the coffee table, by the pitcher. He comes around the desk and grabs his cane Ollie had left just inside the door. He moves his briefcase to the hand that also held his cane, and extends his arm in your direction, offering you his hand. You gladly take it and the two of you leave the office. 

 

There’s another car waiting for you as you leave the building. Alfie helps you inside quickly and follows right behind you. You opt not to slide across the seats as Alfie climbs in. Once he’s seated you lean against his side, his arm snaking behind your back, and wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You head falls against his chest and your hand comes up to rest by your face, lazily rubbing back and forth over the cotton of his shirt. 

 

“I will see Nathan’s family first thing in the mornin’,” Alfie says softly, you close your eyes as the tears well. “They will never need for anything again.  I will send them his pay monthly in addition to paying for their home and children’s schooling.” You push out a soft thank you and Alfie’s hand comes up to the back of your head, stroking your hair softly. 

 

Alfie holds you the entire car ride home, and you wished the circumstances were different. That he held you to have you near, not because you had seen the murder of someone who you were beginning to consider a friend. But of course this would be the way for you to get closest to Alfie, both physically and emotionally, through the business. 

 

Just as on the couch, the car ride ended too soon, but it is Alfie who pulls away first this time. He helps you from the car and into the house where a worry stricken Ruth stands waiting. You figured that Ollie had called her. Her eyes are red and puffy but she was otherwise put together. 

 

“Chamomile tea to her room,” Alfie says as the two of you walk by, your arm around his shoulders his around your waist.  He helps you up the stairs and down the hall toward your room. “A bath?” You nod as he opens the door and the two of you enter your room. His arm comes away from you and you go to sit on the edge of your bed. Alfie moves into your bathroom and you hear water begin to flow into the tub. You hear a cabinet open and a moment after that he scent of roses wafts out of the bathroom. 

 

You slide out of your jacket and shoes, standing and walking into your closet. You pull your dress over your head and remove the rest of your clothing, not really caring that Alfie was on the other side of the wall. You slip on one of your silk robes, a light blue one this time, and tie the sash tightly. You walk back into your room and find Alfie on his knees in front of the small fireplace you had yet to use, stacking little cut logs into a small pile. He turns and looks up to you, his eyes rolling up your form slowly as your reach up and take out the pins that restrained your most unruly hair. 

 

He clears his throat lightly, “Baths ready, thought I might build you a fire. Might get cold tonight.” He stands and wipes his hands on his pants, his jacket had been abandoned on one of your sitting chairs. He moves over to you and looks down at your face softly. “I’ll be in my study if you need anything. Ruth will bring up chamomile tea, to help you sleep.” You nod but neither of you move. Alfie’s eyes search your face before he turns and leaves the room. 

 

The bath is as soothing and relaxing as it always is, it’s the images in your mind that unnerve you. Your bath isn’t as long as they usually are. You clean the dirt and running makeup from your face and body, replacing the smell of dirt and sweat with the rose oils Alfie had thoughtfully added to the water. 

 

You climb from the tub and move into your closet to find a longer nightgown that ends midway down your shins. It’s light and cotton and comforting, like Alfie’s shirt. You draw back on the blue robe and spot Alfie’s jacket, still on the chair. You pick it up and bring it to your face, breathing in his familiar scent. It smells of dark spices and rum, the latter you figured to be what filled all the barrels you had walked by at the bakery. 

 

You lay his jacket over your arm, and find the tray of tea Ruth had left while you bathed. Adding the book you were reading as of late to the tray, you take up the heavy load and make your way out of your room. Your feet are on autopilot, taking you to Alfie’s study. The door is open, and the second it frames your body, Alfie looks up at you, his bifocals falling to his chest. 

 

“You left your jacket,” You begin as you enter the room. “And there were two tea cups so I thought maybe you would want some.” Alfie stands and comes around his desk, meeting you at the couch and coffee table in the center of the room. 

 

You set the tray on the table and lay his jacket on the couch. He stands and watches you move as you do so, his hands in his pocket, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. You sit down and pour a cup of tea, handing it up to him before you pour your own. He takes the tea and moves back to his desk, setting it off to the side, after taking a small sip. 

 

You take a long drink from your own cup and pull your legs up onto the couch next to you. You reach out and take your book from its spot on the tray and crack it open. Alfie glances up at you, a small smile creeping into his face. You sit and read, listening to Alfie’s pen scratch against his papers, his grunts and scoffs as he reads over contracts and the like. 

 

Alfie drinks no more of his tea, but after two cups you find yourself lulling into sleep’s warm embrace. You consider going up to your room, but you’re unsure if you could handle being alone. You glance over at Alfie who is still hard at work, his mouth set in a tight line, his brows pulled together. You shift slightly putting your head against the arm rest and closing your eyes. 

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Alfie noticed your breathing slow about an hour ago, glancing up every once in awhile at your peacefully sleeping form. He thought about moving you to your bed quickly after he discovered you were sleeping, but figured it best to let you sleep. 

 

He had been a fool to think one man on your detail would’ve been enough, especially with the current climate of London. He was amazed though, that whoever sent the men after you had already figured out who and where you were. He was mad at himself that you had been exposed to the violent side of this life so quickly. He thought he would have had more time to prepare you. 

 

Alfie packs up his things for the night, he would need a good rest before the morning. He had met Nathan’s wife and oldest son once, not on purpose of course, but it would be difficult nonetheless, to deliver the news. He leaves his briefcase on his desk, ready for his departure in the morning, and moves over to you. He thinks to himself how he needs to find a cane he can use while carrying you, if moving your body so often would be the norm. He wished he didn’t struggle so with his sciatica. You deserved a man who could carry you for miles, someone who kept you much safer than he could, Alfie found himself thinking. 

 

He would bring up the idea of having a guestless and smaller wedding to you at dinner tomorrow. The invitations had still yet to go out, and he no longer thought it a good idea for your safety to have notices of your location sent out. He hoped you wouldn’t be too upset. He wanted you to have control of the day, as that was the most he could give you as far as a happy marriage, but it looked as though he wouldn’t even be able to do that. 

 

The guilt he felt built daily. Not even on his trip out of town had it gotten better, in fact leaving you made it worse. The only time he didn’t feel the terrible eating at his chest, was when you had been in his arms, and that was almost worse. He should have felt even worse, you had practically seen a man's murder, but he felt no remorse over that as it brought you into his arms. He hated himself for that. He was a dirty, murderous, evil man and you deserved better, but he couldn’t help himself. 

 

He moves over to the couch and scoops you into his arms, grunting softly as he stands straight. His chest is warmed both literally and metaphorically by your soft head against it. Knowing how deeply you sleep, he allows himself to lower his head and breathe in your wonderful floral aroma. His mind begins slinging insults at himself once again, though he agrees he deserves them. He carries you out of his study and up the stairs to your room, pausing when he gets to the second floor, pain shooting through his leg. 

 

“Weak bastard,” he mutters quietly to himself, before continuing down the hall. You left your door slightly ajar and he’s thankful for that. Even unintentionally you showed him kindness he did not deserve. Once inside your room he does had he had before, pulling back the blankets on your bed and laying you gently in the great cloud of a mattress. 

 

Looking down on your small form in the bed, memories of the other night in your study come in waves. How the silk and satin of your slip and robe flowed over your soft feminine curves. How the sweet little buds of your nipples greeted the cold air. It had taken everything he had not to pick you up and press you against the wall so he could taste them. He reaches down and pulls your blankets over you, hoping to exile the thoughts from his mind, but you moan softly at the weight and that kicks it. He can practically feel the blood rushing south. 

 

“Dirty fucker,” he curses at himself, stepping away from your bed. He leaves your room and makes his way down the hall to his room. He needs a cold bath and a kick in the jewels, but his mind becomes filled with the soft sound of your moan, and images of you in his bed, only in that slip you had been wearing. He grunts as he shuts his door behind himself. No matter what he calls himself in his head, his erection grows. 

 

He could not believe you had this effect on him. He had plenty of women before the war, even after when he needed a quick fuck, but they never had him in this state and certainly never without touching him. He pulls his shirt over his head, then lets his trousers fall to the floor as well, grumbling at the sight of his relentless length. “You fuck whores,” He says to the thing. “Not her. She’s clean, you’re dirty. You don’t deserve that, so you had better get your shit together mate.” 

 

He moves over to his bed, pulling back the covers, and not bothering to pull them back up once he lays down, he knows the friction would be too much with the state he was in. He hated it. Hated his cock, himself, his actions, but he couldn’t bring himself to hate you. 

 

He could never satisfy you, he reminds himself. Even if he fucked you, you wouldn’t enjoy it as much as he knew you thought you would. He would be selfish, it wouldn’t be for you, it would be for him. For a second he tells himself you deserved it, for standing in his study doorway after he had walked away from you, all your sweetest bits on display under the satin of your nightgown. The way the cloth bunched at the junction of your thighs deserved it. Those soft buds on your chest deserved it. That sweet little mouth that chose its words so carefully, and kissed so tenderly deserved it. But he knew that was a delusion. 


	10. To be Intimate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liza learns to process difficulties of her new life, well, some of them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a long chapter, but it’s worth it i promise!

You’re more lonely than usual the next day. You sequester yourself away in your study, painting the only thing you can think of, Alfie. You find a large canvas, and paint his vested torso, strong arms with rolled sleeves crossed over his chest. You take a small canvas and paint his lips. You find a long rectangular canvas and paint his hand atop his cane. You finish the first two paintings Alfie asked you to recreate, a Gauguin and a Pissarro. 

 

Ruth knocks on the door throughout the day, asking if you need anything, offering food. The only time you accept her knock is to refill the pitcher of water you drank from, you’re much too queasy for food that day. After a reading break and a cat nap you clean away your paintings of Alfie, hiding them in the back of your the closet he had found you in only a few nights ago. 

 

You take out your last fresh canvas for the day, and stare at its white expanse for quite some time before you even touch it with a brush. Over the next few hours you paint figures in an alleyway, two men standing above another on his knees before them. You leave the faces blank, adding no identifying features, you could never get the eyes right. You’re surprised no tears fall as you paint, but work your feelings out through the paint. 

 

It’s not until you finish that you feel pressure behind your eyes, tears stinging as they take form. You step back and take the painting in, it was exactly as you saw it in your mind. You take the painting in your hand and leave your study, making a beeline for the garage. 

 

“Robert?” You call as you enter through the wide front doors. The boy pokes his head up from under the hood of an engine. 

 

“Yes’m?” He responds, stepping back from his project and wiping his hands on his trousers. 

 

“Do you have a small can of gasoline or something flammable and a match I can borrow?” You tuck the painting up under your arm as the boy moves over to a workbench and grabs a small canister. He hands you the metal container and pulls a book of matches from his pocket. “Thank you. I should be back with them shortly.” 

 

You turn and leave the garage without another word. You had found a patch of dirt where no grass grew just a little ways behind the house. With the gasoline in one hand and the painting in the other you trudge through the grass, thankful you had decided to wear boots that day. 

 

When you reach the patch of dirt you take one last look at your work, before tossing it to the ground. You unscrew the lid from the can and carefully pour the liquid on the canvas, making sure nothing gets on you. You set the canister down a few feet behind you and walk back to the smelly puddle. You light a single match and flick it onto the painting, flames growing quickly as you do so. 

 

As you watch the flames grow you realize this will be something you will have to practice frequently. You had barely been here a month and had lived through the events of the day before. Polly was right, it was important for you to keep a clear head, even more so now that you were going to work for Alfie. Staring into the flames as they eat away at the image, and listening to the crack of the wooden frame burning, you decide you must become more than a timid jewelry makers daughter. You were going to be the wife of gang lord Alfie Solomons, meaning you held a position of power as well, and you were going to use it. 

 

By the time the painting is burned completely to ash the sun is almost finished setting. “Havin’ a bonfire?” Alfie’s voice comes from behind you, but you don’t bother turning around, you just nod. “Well Ruth about had a brain aneurysm when she couldn’t find you for dinner. Says it’s gonna be no good if it goes cold. Said you haven’t eaten yet today.” 

 

“Not hungry,” You reply, finally turning to him. You’re actually very happy to see him, but you keep your head level. “Just needed to get something out.” Alfie nods as if he understands, his eyes moving to the pile of ash on the ground. 

 

“Would you care to sit with me while I eat? There are some things we need to talk about, you n’ me.” You nod, grabbing the gasoline and walking next to him back to the house. You walk in silence all the way from there to the front of the home. You leave the canister outside the closed garage doors, feeling bad you hadn't brought it back sooner like you said you would. 

 

You and Alfie make your way into the dining room to see a slightly disgruntled Ruth bringing in the first course of plates. She sets one down in front of you, “I know you’re not hungry but you cannot sit at my table and ask me not to serve you.” It was incredible how she could remind you of your mother sometimes. You thank her and she pats your shoulder wordlessly, before leaving the room. 

 

“I have to make some changes regarding the wedding,” Alfie begins, pausing to take a bite of his soup. “There will be no guests, Ruth and George will be our witnesses. We may go to your parents home to celebrate sometime if you wish. I wished to give you control of the day, but after the events of yesterday I cannot compromise your safety. I can’t take that chance.”

 

You chew your bottom lip, processing what you’re being told. “Okay. Then I want a Yichud.” 

 

Alfie looks up at you, his hand stopping halfway to his mouth. His spoon comes down hard back into the bowl, a clink announcing its landing. “No.” 

 

“Why not? It’s my wedding as well. My faith as well. There’s no need to protect my modesty if there’s no one around to know.” You don’t dare break eye contact with him. 

 

Alfie’s lips press together hard and you see a mixture of anger and restraint on his face. “No,” he repeats. 

 

“Unless you can offer me a fair reason as to why we should break the tradition of our faith, I will have my Yichud.” You counter, leaning back in your chair and crossing your arms over your chest. 

 

“The marriage is a sham,” Alfie cracks out, you hear the self control he is exhibiting in his words. “There is no need to consummate the marriage in the eyes of God, if God knows it’s a lie regardless.”

 

“Will you not provide to me food and clothing as the ketubah dictates? Why do two of the three things you are signing to do?” Alfie’s stare is intense, more of a glare than anything. His hands ball into fists, but you hold your ground. 

 

“I will not fuck you.” His words are harsh, cutting into your chest, but you refuse to let it show. “I have told you plenty of times it is not necessary.” You catch your tongue before you make a comment about Alfie’s ability to fuck at all, and make the whole thing worse. 

 

“Fine,” You say cooley. “I’ll find someone who will.” Alfie’s jaw clenches. 

 

“You are free to pursue whomever you would like.” He turns his attention back to his bowl. 

 

“Perfect.” You slide your chair back and stand. “Would Ruth be able to get me Arthur Shelby’s number?” 

 

Alfie’s empty wine glass shatters against the wall to his right in an explosion of glass. Ruth yelps as it breaks just as she steps into the room. She takes quick account of the scene and retreats out of the room. “Sit down.” Alfie orders through gritted teeth. You take a moment to decide if you will and Alfie’s first slams against the table, all of the dishes jumping and clattering as he does so. “Now.” You sit back down in the chair, but don’t move it any closer to the table. 

 

“I have no time for your schoolgirl bullshit games.” He keeps his gaze locked on the empty space of table just on the other side of his bowl from him. “If you want that, find someone with time to waste, but do not waste mine. You are free to pursue who you want  _ excluding  _ my business partners, their families, and because I feel I must say it now, my enemies.” 

 

“And if I wanted to pursue you?” You keep your voice soft, but level and strong. 

 

He doesn’t look up at you. “Don’t. You won’t like what you get.” You open your mouth to respond but you don’t get the chance. “This is why I don’t deal with women. You do nothing but start trouble and act stupidly. I don’t want you, get it through your thick fucking skull.”

 

You’re stunned, absolutely speechless. You sit a moment, not letting a single bit of emotion cross you face, your eyes blank. “Of course, Mr. Solomons.” You stand before he can speak again and leave the room calmly, not looking back. You make your way to your room, your face made of stone. 

 

Once you’re safely in your room you move into your closet and strip. You find one of your old white cotton nightgowns from home and slip it on. You weren’t even tired yet, but you climb into your bed anyway. The second you’re under your blankets the tears come, and you cry silently. You had hoped he would at least respect your wishes to follow Jewish tradition, but you should have known he didn’t care about your wishes. Everything he did was for himself, for his business, marrying you, buying you things, being kind to you. It was all to keep you complicit in his selfish actions. 

 

Your sadness subsided slightly and is replaced by anger. He held you yesterday, but not to comfort you, to keep you thinking he gave a shit about you at all, which it was now obvious he didn’t. The paintings were a lucky guess, not a chance of fate, or deeper connection of understanding between the two of you. The art supplies a distraction, something to keep you busy, and the same went for the fakes you were to create. 

 

The rejection stung sharply, you could practically feel your self esteem deflating inside you. It was obvious there was no physical attraction on his side. You had literally offered yourself up to him and were told no. It was your less than ample chest, the one your mother had assured you would come in more, but never had. Or perhaps it was the out of style long hair, or your small mouth. Perhaps it was all of you that repulsed him. He had never protected you modestly, he kept from you out of disgust. 

 

You roll into your side, your back to the door to your room and focus your eyes on the painting of Madame Monet. If only a man would ever see you in the way Claude saw her, and expressed her in oils on canvas. Who would ever want to be with the rejected, inexperienced wife of a gang lord. You wanted to sob, and scream, and break things, and burn those paintings in the closet of your study, and under your bed. 

 

There’s a knock at your bedroom door and you softly call out, “I’m okay, thank you, Ruth.” You hear the door open and shut, and quickly after feel a dip at the edge of your bed behind you. You roll over to tell the old woman that you need space right now, but no words come out as your eyes take in the expanse of Alfie’s back. “Leave me alone,” You manage, turning back, and facing away from him. 

 

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Alfie says, but you interrupted him. 

 

“You never do, but you manage it, don’t you?” You feel him shift slightly on the bed, and glance over your shoulder to see him looking down at you. 

 

“It appears so,” His jaw is set tight, and his voice is strained. “I should have chosen my words more carefully.” You sit up, hating the power dynamics of laying beneath him while he apologizes. His eyes follow you as you move, you watch his jaw clench as you do so. 

 

“I’m listening.”

 

Alfie pauses a moment, as if he is still choosing his words. “I cannot have you.” He clears his throat. “Not because I don’t want you.”

 

“Why not?” You feel that warmth only Alfie created grow once again in your belly. 

 

“Doesn’t matter, why not. What matters is that you know you’re not undesirable innit?” His eyes moved down your neck, to your torso. and you realize your nipples are once again poking through your nightgown. When Alfie speaks next he sounds thirsty, and licks his lips, “You’re a stunnin’ young las, and any man would be lucky to have you.” His gaze comes back up to your face. 

 

In a moment of courage you scoot closer to him and say, ”Show me, I am.” Alfie’s mouth opens as if he’s going to say something, but it shuts quickly. His eyes look to the door to your room, and back to you. “Alfie,” You say softly, watching his tongue dart out to wet his lips. 

 

“I just want to feel you,” Alfie says, moving more of himself onto the bed. His hand reaches up and pulls the blankets covering your waist and legs away, his eyes trailing down your body. You move before he does, pulling your legs up, and moving toward him. Once you’re near enough he pulls you into his lap by your hips, his strong hands felt exactly as you imagined they would. One of his hands moves up to hold the side of your face and upper part of your neck gently, his thumb caressing your jaw. 

 

A moment later his lips are on yours, and when his tongue enters your mouth you moan softly and let your hips roll against his lap. He pulls back abruptly, “Mother of God,” His hand on your hip moves downward, grasping your thigh, before moving back upward, over your hip, gliding up your stomach. His hand comes up just under your breast, not yet touching it. “May I?” His voice is soft, and his eyes are locked downward. 

 

You reach your hand down, placing it onto his and moving it up to envelop your breast. His mouth comes back against yours. Slightly more roughly, this time your tongue meets his and he moans softly against your mouth. You smile and stifle your giggle as he pulls back again. Alfie’s hand moves down from your face and joins its counterpart at your chest, and you reach up to the strap of your nightgown, sliding it off your shoulder. Alfie removes his hands and watches your push the fabric down your body. 

 

His mouth opens slightly as his gaze falls to your chest, taking in the sight of your breasts. “Fuckin’ perfect you are,” He says. You blush and go to correct him, they could be bigger, but are caught off guard by the hot wet feeling of Alfie’s mouth on your nipple. You gasp, and one of your hands tangles into Alfie’s dark hair. He’s gentle, sucking and lapping at the sensitive bud, something you didn’t even know men liked to do, but you weren’t complaining. His other hand entertains your free nipple, rolling the hardened nub back and forth between two of his fingers. He soon switches and you almost comment on his egalitarian efforts, but find your words replaced with moans and gasps of Alfie’s name. He chuckles against your flesh, and your hips roll against his once more, desperately craving friction. 

 

You could feel your most private area throbbing with need, that warm feeling had spread downward quickly. “Aren’t we eager?” Alfie chuckles again, his hands moving back to your waist and hips. He picks you up as though you weigh nothing, and set you back up the bed off his lap. You lay back on your elbows and watch his oh so capable hands move to the strap of fabric surrounding your hips. He slowly pulls it down your legs and lets the gown fall to the floor. His hands move along your skin, up your closed thighs to your knees. He slowly pulls your legs apart, his eyes moving to your core the second it’s in view. His hands leave your legs, but you keep them spread, your knees bent. 

 

“Absolutely fuckin’ perfect.” He moves his torso down between your legs and all of a sudden you’re nervous. You try and bring your legs together some, but Alfie’s hands keep that from happening, moving to the inside of your thighs. “Not now darlin’, you can’t hide that sweet little cunny now.” His head moves lower and your feel his breath on the innermost part of your thighs. He trails kisses on his way downward. His tongue meets your slit with a broad stroke and you gasp out loudly. Alfie chuckles and repeats his actions once more. He focuses the movement of his tongue upward on a small most sensitive area of your core.

 

“Yes, Alfie please,” You beg involuntarily, his eyes flash up to meet yours and you find yourself lost into his dark gaze. You hadn’t seen this from Alfie before, but you liked it, you really liked it. Your hands grasp desperately at the sheets, as you watch Allie bring his hand up. His thumb finds that sensitive little bud and begins rubbing small circles. “Fuck,” you curse, the first time you’ve used the word aloud, it feels strange in your mouth, but like magic, Alfie’s thumb works faster, and you feel his mouth work in tandem with it, licking and sucking at your slick core. 

 

You whimper when his thumb pulls away, but moan soon after as his tongue quickly replaces it. His hand moves south, a finger running across your entrance, before the tip rests just outside it. “I already know, but I want you to tell me,” Alfie says, after pulling his mouth back and bringing his free hand up around your thigh to take over for his tongue, rubbing small circles. You nod for him to continue, and he smiles. “You’ve never had a man in you at all, have you? This is a little virgin cunt innit?” You nod, and a steam of yeses come out of your mouth as his fingers pick up speed on your clit. 

 

There’s a new hunger behind Alfies eyes, and you watch him carefully as he presses that finger forward, slowly sliding into you. There’s a quick twinge of pain, but the stretching feeling quickly overtakes it. You can barely keep yourself together, feeling like your hands are going to rip into your sheets. He slides the finger back out slowly and on the next push in, he adds a second, the pain much more this time, but you focus on the pleasurable sensation of the stretch. “I can’t- I’m gonna- Alfie, I think,” is all you can manage to say, as his fingers move in and out at a quickened pace. 

 

“That’s what we want, love, come on now,” Alfies deep voice helps twist that tight winding in your stomach, and you feel like you’re going to explode. In one swift move he replaces his mouth on your clit, his now free hand reaching up and capturing your breast, pinching the nipple. That last addition puts you into sensory overload, and your orgasm hits you like a brick wall, Alfies hands and mouth working all the while. 

 

As you feel it pass you watch Alfie slide his fingers from you, and they very quickly disappear into his mouth, he practically growls as he cleans them, his eyes fluttering shut. Your eyes follow him as he removes his digits from his mouth and moves back lower to your core, the muscles under his shirt moving like a predatory animal’s. He licks your slit clean, stirring back up that feeling once more. 

 

When he’s done with his careful job he moves back up your body, his face coming just over yours as you catch your breath. You don’t break eye contact as he moves, only closing your lids when your mouths connect. You taste yourself in his lips and tongue, and feel your wetness in his beard and mustache as they tickle you. You bring your legs up and wrap them around his hips so you practically hang from him. He presses you both down into the bed, and you feel his hard length straining against his slacks. You venture a hand downward from his chest, letting it slide gently over the fabric of his jeans that separates you from his member. 

 

His hand finds yours and to your disappointment pulls it back up to his chest. He breaks the kiss and moves his face to your neck, sucking at the skin. Once again you move your hand downward, but go for the button on his trousers, only to be pulled away once more. He takes both of your hands in one of his and pulls them above your head. You struggle against his grasp, trying to ignore his tongue which had made its way to the other side of your neck. 

 

“Alfie,” You get out, tugging your arms down hard. “Alfie!” You’re practically yelling. His head pulls back and you almost watch the hunger drain from his eyes. He looks down at your worried expression and releases your hands. You rub at your wrists, “Why won’t you let me touch you?” He moves from the bed, and picks up your nightgown. 

 

“I can’t.” He sits back on the edge of the bed, further from you now. He reaches out and offers you the nightgown, which you take, but don’t put on. “If you want these relations from me, this is how it will have to be.” You shake your head. Like hell it would. 

 

“No Alfie, it’s not going to work like that.” He keeps his gaze ahead of him. You watch his hand curl into fists, gangster Alfie was back. 

 

“See it’s  _ my  _ cock so I reckon it is. If you don’t want me for that, the you won’t get me at all. I shouldn’t even offer you that, but I figure outa the kindness in me heart, I’ll do that for ya. Don’t go asking’ for things you don’t need. You’re satisfied this way, that’s what matters innit?” He doesn’t turn as he talks to you, rather he stares straight foreword. 

 

“I want to satisfy you too Alfie,” You say softly, hoping, praying he would hear you, hell, even take pity on your inexperienced self. His head slowly turns to look at you, you cross an arm over your breasts as if you’re embarrassed to have him see you naked. 

 

“I’m satisfied. Satisfying you, is what satisfies me innit? That’s as good as it’s gonna get, sweetheart.” You didn’t believe him for a second, but there was obviously more at play than just Alfie not wanting to here. If he wanted to do something he did it, unless he knew something that changed the want. 

 

“Would you at least hold me for a minute?” Alfie looks shocked, then confused, then nods. He moves his body back into the bed, you roll to your side and you make room for him under the blankets. But in true Alfie fashion he lays down right behind you, on top of the blankets, keeping a physical barrier between your hips and his. His arms snake around your chest and pull your back against him. You have the covers pulled up over your breasts but with his hand he cups one of them. It’s not sexual, just intimate, like he said, he wanted to feel you. 

 

His face buried itself in the crook of your neck, and you focus on his breathing, the feel of his heartbeat on your back. It wasn’t exactly what you wanted, you thought he would be more willing to share himself with you, be vulnerable, but he was Alfie Solomons after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry to be a tease, but more fun bits soon!!


	11. To Make a Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliza negotiates her place in the business

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick little chapter! More up soon! Thank you all for such sweet, and important feedback!!!

Alfie didn’t stay the whole night in your bed, you figured he had left shortly after you feel asleep, he always had things to get done. He was different the next day, treated you as though you would break at any moment, like you were more fragile than before, and you hated it. At breakfast he had barely spoken to you, only really to tell you he had a busy day ahead, but only because the wedding was just two days away, and he had things to get done before then. 

 

You found yourself wishing more than you had before that your relationship with Alfie could have been organic, not from such a forced happening. You liked to think he would’ve been found you anyway, out of want though, not of necessity. Really courted you, like Edward had to Serena, like every other girl you knew. 

 

You did you best to focus on the positives of your evolving relationship, at least it was evolving, you just hoped it was for Alfie as well. The man had almost gotten harder to read since you met him. Of course you were clued into his mannerisms and mood indicators, but Alfie was a man who took what he wanted when he wanted. So why wouldn’t he have you if he can? Why would he be so kind at moments, and so cruel the next? 

 

The muck in his head. There’s something stuck up there. Polly said you would have to do some clearing. Alfie needed to get through this. He needed to make up his mind, did he want you or not. Not to even mention the Yichud you didn’t even know if you were having. Quite frankly the Yichud you weren’t sure you wanted anymore. Maybe that was Alfie’s only intention when he touched you, to make you doubt having a Yichud. 

 

You spent hours devoted to thinking on these topics, to thinking about Alfie. When you realize all of your lines of thought had been chased and none of them bared the fruit you had hoped, you decide to call the only person you trust to handle the situation. 

 

“Serena, It’s Liza.”

 

“Hey doll, how’s it going’ as chateau Solomons?” She sounded light, happy, a sound you treasured hearing from her. 

 

“It’s fine,” you lie. “Have you heard from or seen Joseph at all. He still won’t answer me.” 

 

“Just at dads shop. He’s quieter, but then again he only really talked to you ever, so I guess without you he hasn’t much to say.” Your heart squeezed with guilt. All this time you had been so bent up about how Alfie was treating you, that you hadn’t thought about how you had treated your friends and family. To be fair Joseph disappeared for a moment, but that didn’t give you the right to forget about him. 

 

“I’ll need to stop by soon and say hi. I miss him.” You need to change the subject. You need to tell Serena about Alfie, but words escape you for a moment. 

 

“Eliza?” Your sister's voice chimes over the line. 

 

“Yeah, sorry just thinking,” you explain. 

 

“About what? What’s going on? Is it Mr. Solomons?” The lightness in her voice that you feared losing was gone now, and you let out a sigh to grieve it. 

 

“Yeah it’s Mr. Solomons. He said there wouldn’t be any guests at our wedding, security purposes.” 

 

Just as you figured she would when you told her, Serena interrupts you. “No guests? To your own wedding? Not even your family? I know the whole thing is staged but really?” 

 

“There was an incident, I’m fine I just got caught in the cross hairs of some of Alfie’s businesses affairs. It’s just better right now if we get the marriage finalized as quickly and quietly as possible.” Your eyes sting with the promise of tears for a moment as you realize you were trying to convince yourself more than you were Serena. “It’s okay, it’s the way it is in this life. Don’t always get to do things as you may like.”

 

“That was his choice of sacrifice not yours,” Serena cuts in.  “The least he could do is make the day you officially sacrifice your own freedom of choice, your life, to him, nice for you. Selfish bastard.” 

 

“He’s not,” You reply, though you’re not sure why. The news of your intimacies with him surely would confuse her. “He’s worried about my safety. He’s acting out of concern for my well being.” 

 

“Sure, it has nothing to do with a display of power. Come on Eliza, you’re the first person to point out when a man is trying to make himself appear powerful and the games they play to pull that. Just because you’re stuck with him doesn’t mean you don’t have the right to demand respect, in fact, you have more than the right. You told me when I found out that Charlie was coming, that when we have a choice to make, we need to make it for ourselves. You didn’t get a choice in the grand scheme of things but that doesn’t mean you need to relinquish your rights, your power. That’s the business anyway isn’t it?” She finishes with a huff. “You’re not helpless Eliza, you’re a grown up, use your words, I know you’ve got ‘em.” 

 

She was more right than she could’ve known. Alfie was a man of action, a smart man of action, that was the problem. If he wasn’t taking action with you, the reason must be important. You used your words, choose them carefully, intentionally. You couldn’t expect a man at war to approach you with diplomatic words, but you could translate your intent into actions, not just words. “You’re right,” You respond coolly. Alfie was a different species than the men you had dealt with before. You were smart, you were independent, and you had power. You couldn’t take your focus off that. You needed to be his equal in a sense, he wouldn’t be able to refuse you, because he would respect you. “I’m not helpless.” 

 

You quickly finish the call, it wasn’t too late in the afternoon and as far as you knew Alfie would be at the bakery in his office. You call Ruth to your room and have her prepare a car, including loading up the paintings you had done for Alfie, this time with an extra man, even though you were just going to Alfies bakery, you weren’t supposed to leave at all yet. Ruth rushes off to ready those things and you change into the most powerful business woman outfit you could come up with. Dressed in a dark green skirt and matching jacket with a white silk blouse with a somewhat scandalous neckline, you make your way to town. 

 

You’re let right through the door, men moving out of your way with every step you take deeper into the bakery. You have the men who drove you into town lugging the paintings along with them. Ollie finds you quickly. “Hello Eliza, was Alfie expectin’ you ‘cuz he didn’t tell me nothin.”

 

“No, this is a surprise visit, no time to call ahead, my apologies, but I had to see him, you know how women can be.” You say with a smile and Ollie has no choice but to agree, you were his superior now anyway. You make your way back down the hall and let yourself into the office, instructing the men to place the paintings down and leave. 

 

“What in the world are you up to now woman?” Alfie asks, standing  as you sit, his palms resting flat on his desk, he looks at you almost menacing. His sleeves were rolled up and it looked like he had oil or soot or something smeared on his forearms. His bifocals hanging from his neck swung back and forth softly as he spoke. 

 

“What a way to greet your wife.” You say, your eyes rolling. Alfie scoffs. You raise your eyebrows. “I wanted to show you something and I was very excited about in fact.” You gesture to the paintings and Alfie grumbles as he comes around the desk to the two large wrapped canvases. He picks up the first one and pulls off the paper neatly. He rests it up against the wall to your left and takes a step back. 

 

“That’s mighty fine work that is.” He moves back to the painting and picks it up, inspecting the signature in the bottom corner. 

 

“It’s exactly how he had it. Not a chance anyone but Pissarro could tell and he’s dead now so no need to worry about that.” You shrug and click open your purse to find the lipstick you had grabbed. You take out a compact mirror as well and check your reflection, touching up your lips carefully. 

 

“These the only two you got then?” You nod when Alfie glances back at you. “Get the other two done after the weddin’ I can work with these for now.” Alfie moves back around to his desk. 

 

“Oddest thing,” You say as Alfie looks up at you with an exhausted look. “I want to be a part of it, if I’m making them.”

 

Alfie shakes his head, “What the fuck are you on about? I told you I have work I need to get done today so I can take time off for the wedding.” 

 

“I figure it’s my art, you’re asking me to be in the business, why stop with some paintings. This marriage is a lifelong deal yeah? So is being a gangster or their wife. Why not let me be invested in this part of the lifelong deal.” You make sure you’re sitting up straight in your chair, eyes set on his, not looking like you will crumble easily. 

 

Alfie leans back in his chair and scratches his beard. “Well you’d have to live for a lifetime, which is somethin’ I have to make sure happens see, so puttin’ you in the thick of it ain’t gonna assure that innit?” 

 

“You know I’m a good shot Alfie. I made it away from those men who got Nathan. I’m smart, I’m fast, I can handle a gun properly. I’m smaller and less conspicuous than the men you’ve got ‘round here. Give me a shot. I’ve shown you what I can do already, Alfie.” You keep your voice level, firm and determined. 

 

Alfie leans forward and brings his hands together on his desk. “These two are are bein’ swapped out of a truck leavin London two days after the weddin’. The men have orders to intercept the truck just after it gets to the docks for France. The pieces must be accounted for  before the trade can happen. It’s a late delivery. Shouldn’t be many people at the docks, maybe 5 men including the driver. They will all have to be disposed of. Paintings have to be back to me by sunrise.” You nod attentively and Alfie shakes his head. “You misunderstand me. What makes you think I’m gonna send you into that? Happy weddin’ love, for the honeymoon why don’t ya go kill some men for me, somethin’ you couldn’t stomach, not even seein’ a week ago.” 

 

“I’ll never be able to stomach it if you keep me so distanced from it.” You take a deep breath. “You chose to put me in this life, you chose me for whatever reason, convenience, whatever. You need to decide now if you want to grant me the freedom to invest my time where I would like, or if a subservient, helpless woman, trapped in a house is more your speed.” You knew Alfie would not be able to tell you to he demanded subservience over your freedom of choice. 

 

“You’re asking me to sign off on your murder.” Alfie rubs his brow. 

 

“Think about it this way. You could say no and all I do is paint for you, and you get rich on my work while I stay home. Or you could let me in, let me really work with you. I learn to think quicker, move faster and shoot better. I learn who’s who and how to charm them for you, how to play them for you. Let’s say you’re out of town, and someone who doesn’t like you very much sends someone to the house in the middle of the night to kill me. Would you rather soft painter Eliza defend herself, or the wife of Alfie Solomons? Because it’s only going to be me there to defend me when or if i'm ever caught alone, and I very well may be, so Id like to invest in me.” Alfie blinks several times. 

 

“You come up with that on the way here or was that just now, love?” You liked the sound of him calling you love, something you normally felt repulsed from. He picks his hands up and holds them palm together, his elbows resting on the desk before you, you watch his eyes as he waits behind them. 

 

“On the way.” You admit. “But that doesn’t lessen the merit.”

 

“By no means,” Alfie rubs his hands. “Shows forethought, shows creativity, shows strength to stand by your carefully selected word. I hear your father’s honesty again in your words.” You nod as he pauses and take in gangster Alfie once again. All bravado and winding words of subtle and tactful intimidation. You liked this side of Alfie too, makes you feel powerful and intimidating, not small and effectless as you were sure was often the intention. 

 

“I think it’s stupid, but that’s a fair point though innit?” He pauses and you feel lit up inside. You may have actually gotten through. “I do have me conditions though and as you wish to be treated as someone like me, you get just the one offer then or it’s off the table yeah?” You nod, and he pulls a sheet of paper from a pile and begins writing things down. After a couple moments he looks back up at you, and replaces the cap to the pen he was using. 

 

“Right then, condition one, I choose the jobs you do, you can offer input but it’s my call, always my call.” You nod again, that would have to change over time, but you were fine with it for now. “Two, when on a job either myself, or two additional men will be accompanying the job crew to keep care of you.” Another thing to change later but you nod again. 

 

“Three, you will under no circumstances fuck another man while on a job. Not as a distraction, not as a ploy, not for the business, you will not use your body in such a way. As in our marital conditions you may be involved with anyone you like, but you will never be bought or sold, not to gain anything.” You nod again, that one could stay forever. “Four, you will do as you are told and taught by yours truest. You will not go off plan on a job, you will not improvise or change last minute.” 

 

“Fifth  and Final,” Alfie pauses and scratches his beard again. “You are free to come to me for assistance, when it comes to marital intimacies, should you want to. That being said, I retain my condition from our prior discussion on the matter.”  He really wanted to work not getting him off in the contract. You really couldn’t believe it, but that issue was separate from the one at hand, at least for you. You held your tongue instead of disagreeing. He still wanted to offer himself to you in some way, you could work with that. You nod a final time. 

 

“Okay.” You reach a hand out to Alfie and he takes it, shaking it like a businessman. He sides a pen and the revised contract over to you and you sign and date accordingly. He smiles with his mouth closed as you pass it back to him. 

 

“Thanks for visiting me at work sweetheart, makes me day easier.” He says sarcastically as you stand. You notice men passing by the office through the windows and smile to yourself. If Alfie was going to play this game you could too. You circle around the side of the desk quickly and Alfie turns to you, a confused look on his face as you climb into his lap. 

 

You bring a hand to his face and he goes to speak but you connect your lips, and before you have a chance to lead, Alfie’s mouth moves against yours. He chuckles as he pulls back. “Well played.” His eyes move to the window where you’re sure some men stopped walking in shock of seeing their practically celibate leader with a woman in his lap. 

 

“I’ll see you at home dear,” You coo, walking to the door. You give Alfie a sweet smile before you leave and he chuckles again.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

You’re leaving your study, covered in paint, as of course you began working on other paintings for Alfie, just as he comes into the house from work. You continue your sassy role-playing and hurry over to him, his annoyed expression quickly becomes confused as he watches you hurry across the foyer. 

 

“Oh darling welcome home, we have missed you so,” You help pull his jacket off of him and he greets you with the same chuckle you had departed on at the office. You smile contently as you rest the jacket on a bench in the foyer.

 

“Can’t tell if you painted yourself, or somethin’ else and that’s all just casualty paint,” he remarks, making you laugh. Alfie leaves his briefcase next to the jacket on the bench and the two of you make your way into the dining room to find dinner just finishing being set. Ruth pulls your chair out as you near and you take the seat she offers, thanking her softly. 

 

“How was the rest of your day?” Ruth places the first course in front of you as you ask and she gives you a knowing smile. 

 

“More of the usual,” Alfie says taking a bite of the stew in front of him, and turns his attention to you. You push a chunk of potato around your bowl but hunger escapes you. “Since you’re workin’ for me now I don’t have to ask it as a favor of you. There’s a group of women married to some important names in London. They frequent places of culture, museums, fashion events, musical events, plays, but they’re the taste setters of the upper class. Next wednesday they will be meetin’ at the art museum right near Camden, i’m sure you know which. I need you to befriend them as of right now, that should be your foremost concern with them.”

 

You immediately wanted to comment on how obvious this was that Alfie was giving you a job that included no real danger, or real self advancement in the line of work. But you had signed the contract and you knew it meant he would pull shit like this. “How will I know what women?”

 

“You’ll know them when you see them,” Alfie shifts in his chair and looks up from his bowl to you. “I also have a file on each of those womens likes, their importance, ties, and of course photographs for easy identification. They’re in my study. I’ll need you to start studyin’ those tonight.” 

 

You nod. “Can’t wait,” you take a bite of the stew and chew slowly. “Alfie?”

 

“Yeah?” He looks up at you and for a moment you’re caught again. Caught in that thing he does, that look he gives that just gets you. The one that sees you. 

 

“I was wondering if I might have an hour or so of your time tonight, sometime after we finish here. After your work perhaps?” You hold his gaze as you ask for his time, not letting yourself quaver. You were a woman of actions now. 

 

“What for?” He raises an eyebrow, his lips pulled into a smirk and you smile at his charm. 

 

“I’d like to paint your portrait,” You say smoothly. Now both his brows are raised and he represses a smile. 

 

“What do you wanna paint me for?” He chuckles softly and leans back in his chair. 

 

“Wedding present.” You smile at him sweetly and his tongue darts out to wet his lips. He nods.

 

“I might be able to find some time then yeah?” He offers it casually but you’re overjoyed he agreed. Ruth and Millie come in and swap out the courses, and Alfie refills your wine glass. There for a sparkling moment of excitement and human exchange, you get an astounding glimmer of happiness. This you could do. Serena told you to work for that glimmer. Find the happiness and fight for it. 


	12. To Paint a Portrait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliza paints a portrait of Alfie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick little chapter! The next two are going to be rather long, just a heads up! Also just a little NSFW in this chapter but nothing too crazy, more to come soon ;)

Just around dusk, as the light begins to fade from behind the trees out the window of your study, there’s a soft knocking against the door. You look up to see Alfies silhouette in your doorway. “Come in!” You lilt. He steps into the room and suddenly the air is sucked out.

 

You’re at the windows, untying the ribbons around the curtains, preparing to pull them together as a backdrop for Alfie, but you intended to watch the sun set first.He shuts the door with a click and slips his hands into his pockets. His shirts unbuttoned a little more, his chest hair peeking at you, his suspenders hung loose, his sleeves were rolled back, and you thought that he could never have looked sexier. 

 

He moves over to you at the window, and turns to the view. “Now that’s lovely ain’t it?” You nod and hum softly in agreement. He glanced over at you, before returning his gaze to the view. “Then why is it you wanna paint some old man instead of that?” 

 

“You’re lovely,” You say softly and he looks back at you again, a shit eating grin on his face. 

 

“You got a crush on me then innit?” He chuckles. “You think i’m lovely?”

 

You nod, the only way out was through, and this is what he needed to hear. “I do. You’ve made so much and done much more from sheer willpower and determination. You can do things no man can do, and say things other men don’t say. You’re powerful, strong. You think carefully, logically, you respect the arts,” you giggle, “to a point. You’re handsome too, so that helps.”

 

“You’re sweet to me, kind, careful, fair, honest, giving. You may not like it but, I am wanting to be here with you now. I want to build a team, I want us to work. So if that’s a crush, then yeah.” Your gaze is cast out at the fading pink sky, birds moving through the trees. After a moment you let your gaze meet his. 

 

“That’s adorable, you’ve got a crush.” His tone denotes teasing, but in his eyes you see that glimmer, the one you had felt earlier. The sun falls behind the skyline and you pull the curtains together. You had moved a great block of a leather chair from another room into your study. 

 

You gesture to the chair, across from which was an easel and a table for your paints. Alfie slides into the chair and relaxes back, but maintains his power. He looked absolutely regal. His hands grasped the edge of either arm, and you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking of his hands on you like that. 

 

You begin to paint, starting with those hands adorned with rings and that crown tattoo, mapping the painting out around them. You glance from the canvas to Alfie and back, and quickly notice his eyes haven’t left you. You continue to pretend though, that what you’re painting is more important and interesting. It’s much more intimate than you had expected, sitting there in silence with him. 

 

“Thought you couldn’t paint portraits,” Alfie says, pulling your attention back to him. You let your eyes flick from the pigment on canvas to the real Alfie, to catch a glance at his smirking face. 

 

“Usually I don’t, I can never get the eyes right. But I figured, I need to start somewhere,” You offer as casually as you can. Opting not to tell him how his eyes are different from any you’d seen before. How you see something in them that you had never seen before. An extra hint of life, which you hoped to capture. Alfie nods at your explanation and you smile softly, keeping your attention on the work. 

 

It’s quiet as you continue, you had hoped there was a chance Alfie would open up, even just a little, and talk to you, really talk, while you worked. But the man was a brick wall. He was sexy and brooding and powerful over in the chair and he knew it. After quite some time you set down your brush and stand back from the painting. “We’re not done yet, probably need a couple more sessions. How about we take a break for a moment and then spend just a little more time on it tonight. We can find more time for another session.” You keep your eyes on the painting, Alfies hands and arms, his shoulders and chest with that little patch of brown curls took over the canvas. You hadn’t started the head or face though yet, much too daunting. 

 

Alfie rises from his chair and moves behind you, coming around to look at your work. He’s not very close, at least foot between you, but with his eyes on your painting, it felt as though he may as well have pressed himself right up against you and whispered his thoughts into your ear. 

 

“I never believed you couldn’t paint portraits, think you’ve just convinced yourself you can’t.” Alfie gestures to the painting as he speaks. “Think I’m right innit?”

 

“I haven’t even begun the face yet,” you retort. “There’s no way you could know.” Alfie looks over at you and scoffs. 

 

“This tells me all I need to know about your ability.” He gestures at the painting with one of his hands. “You see just as I thought you did.” 

 

You look over at him, your brows pulled together. “What do you mean?”

 

His expression is fairly blank, but it’s warm, his pupils and dark irises reflecting the painting back to itself. “Most people look at another human and see them for their physical presence, their height, beauty, weight, how posh they dress. I’ve worked my whole life for more than that. To bring more than my physical presence with me. An air of power, intellect, terror, whatever I need, whatever I must be. You got that. You see it.”  

 

You’re stunned by the compliment, and thankfully Alfie keeps his eyes forward to allow you a moment. You hadn’t even finished yet and he appeared to already like it. “Thank you,” is all that you can manage. He turns his head and offers a kind smile, the faint wrinkles at the edge of his eyes crinkling. There is was, there was the way through that brick he had built himself up from. You could see it now, like a flicker of light in a dark room, there was some semblance of hope, reassurance. You look up and slightly back at him and notice that his eyes were still on yours. His gaze momentarily flicks down to your lips and that feeling stirs powerfully inside you again. 

 

His hand comes up and gently takes your jaw in his palm, his thumb stroking over your cheek. “Thank you,” He says softly before closing the gap between you. His lips meet yours tenderly and for a moment you give in. You allow yourself to imagine this meant more for him that you expected it did. That perhaps he had been romancing you properly, that he chose you out of want,  not convince, not ability to fake paintings and further his empire. You let him sneak his tongue into your mouth and move against yours. 

 

His other hand comes up and he weaves his fingers into your loose curls. You hesitate to touch him in return, afraid he might pull back, but it happens regardless and you’re left feeling like you had so much more to give. You pull your bottom lip into your mouth and bite it softly, missing the connection, his taste, like dark spices heavy against your pallet. 

 

You repress a soft laugh and settle for a smile. For someone who didn’t want to share himself with you, he sure liked to kiss you. He shoots you a close mouth smile back and reaches up to push a loose lock of hair behind your ear. This was another one of those sparkling moments you realize. These would be what it took, for you and Alfie both to make it through. 

 

You move upward this time, reconnecting your lips, letting lust lead just a touch more than you had in the last kiss. He moans so softly against your mouth that you almost miss it. The hand that had taken care of your loose hair stays up by your face, but Alfie’s free hand moves down to your hip and rests there softly for a moment before lightly pulling your body against his. You take the invitation for further contact and let one hand slide over his bicep, squeezing gently. Your other hand works its way up to his neck and hangs there even after he’s pulled back for air.

 

“I agree,” Alfie says, his thumb softly stroking your jaw while his hand keeps your body pressed against his. “I think we’re gonna need a few more sessions on this one.” He crooks his head toward the painting and he moves his mouth back over yours, though he doesn’t connect just yet. His eyes close and you reach up to thread your fingers through his beard, holding his face in your hands. His eyes open and he smiles, the hand on his jaw moving over yours on his. 

 

His hand moves to the back of your head for another kiss. This one is charged. More desperate, needing, and you note, mostly coming from Alfie. His tongue slips into your mouth and his hands both pull your hips flush with his.  You can feel it now, his hard length against your thigh, and you hate that this was as much contact as you were likely to get. You roll your hips against his, pressing your cores together and adding the sweetest bit of friction. 

 

Alfie pulls back a moment later and you each take a second to catch your breath once more. Alfies hands come around to your thighs and buttocks and before you know it he’s picked you up from your place on the ground, your legs automatically wrapping around him. He moves over toward the couch and you think about what Alfie was most likely to do to you on it. That pressure returns and that familiar twisting, everything to tell you to keep going. 

 

“Alfie,” You say softly as he brings the two of you down onto the couch, you in his lap, facing him. You pull your arms from their place around his neck and rest them gently, palms to his chest. “Alfie I don’t think I can.” 

 

His brows pull together and his hands stop rubbing slow circles into the side of your hips. “You can’t?” He says quietly. 

 

“I want to, I know how good you are. Trust me I know, and it’s not that I don’t want you,” You pause and bite your bottom lip as his eyes remained locked on yours. “I can only give as much of me as you give of you. It’s selfish for me to take from you like this. I can’t let myself.” 

 

Alfie chuckles and his hands move to rub the sides of your legs, moving down and back up your thighs. “Nah it’s not selfish love, you give much more than you think.” 

You shake your head and his hands stop moving. 

 

“Alfie no,” His eyes flick to yours and there’s a small degree of pain in them. You bring your hands up to his shoulders and sigh “You can tell me all you want, that this isn’t selfish of me, but it won’t change how selfish I feel. I appreciate the sentiment, but I don’t think I can have you like this.” Alfie blinks slowly, and shakes his head softly. His arms move to wrap around your waist and he gently pulls you against his chest, your head resting just below his chin, you hear the solid thudding of his heart. 

 

“The wedding is tomorrow,” You say for the first time all day, you really hadn’t thought about it much at all. “The Yichud is up to you. You know my stance on it, but it’s your choice.” Alfies hand moves up your back and rubs up and down gently and suddenly you realize the intimacy Alfie is allowing and your heart picks up more than it had when things were getting hot and heavy. 

 

You melt into him, letting his chest lift you as he breathes and the two of you sit in silence. You notice that every once in a while he would draw a heavier breath in, and you could swear he was breathing you in. After some time you pull up from him, much more relaxed and tired than you had been before. You wanted to spend the rest of the night just like that, maybe light a fire and watch it burn until it’s ash, it really didn’t matter, as long as he held you like that. You rub your eyes and Alfie chuckles. You smile sheepishly in return and he sits up straighter. 

 

“Sleepy now are ya?”His arms stretch out from him and expand down the top of the back of the couch. He leans back casually and you watch as his eyes trail down your body to the split of your legs, over his lap, and back up. You catch his eyes and shake your head. You move off of him, and stand.

 

“Come have a seat I need to finish up for tonight.” You direct him and listen for the creak  that indicated he stood from the couch. He comes from behind you and moves to the chair. You pick up where you left off but notice that Alfie sits slightly differently, much to accommodate the erection he was trying to hide. You felt proud, he hadn’t had one when you left his lap. “You like bein’ told what to do?” You chirp, poking your head out from behind the canvas, making a show of glancing down at his failed attempt to hide himself. 

 

“That’s not what that means.” He says, sounding somewhat annoyed, “But watching you move while you said it, especially after having you in me lap, mighta helped it along.” You laugh at his explanation and move back to the painting. “You like having’ that power on me dontcha?” 

 

You move back into his line of sight and lock eyes with him. You bite your bottom lip softly and nod your head, “Mmm-hmmm,” You moan softly, heavy with innuendo, your legs gently rubbing together, and his eyes grow wide. 

 

“You dangerous woman you.” He say with a begrudged grin. 


	13. To be Married

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of Alfie and Eliza’s wedding has come, and Eliza finds herself asking some big questions of life with Alfie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW 
> 
> WEDDING NIGHT YALL you know what’s up 
> 
>  
> 
> ALSO super long chapter, sorry in advance, it’s kinda dense. Enjoy.

You allowed yourself to sleep in a touch the next morning, it was your wedding day after all. You slept well, contently, wrapped in dreams of Alfie. When you wake you notice a soft buzzing just below your skin, all throughout your body. It’s like a low hum running through you. Sitting up you find your dress, shoes, veil and jewelry laid out just inside your closet. You stand from your bed and wrap the white silk robe that you had out around yourself. On a table left of the door to your bathroom you find a tray with a beautiful breakfast laid out. Eggs and bacon and croissants, with fresh fruit and brie cheese. There’s even a kettle of tea, and matching mugs. Ruth has outdone herself.

 

You take the breakfast tray over to your desk and look out the window at the property while you chew your food. A few minutes into the meal you find a note tucked under one of the croissants.

 

             Been told I cant see you until the ceremony. Think it’s garbage, but we are traditional aren’t we. Have a surprise comin’ for ya. Little wedding gift, you could say. A thank you from me to you.

                                  ~Alfie

 

You smile and chew a slice of apple. You wondered what the surprise may be. You were excited you and Alfie were becoming close, but nervous about what that meant. You ring Ruth up to clear your meal and run you a bath. She appears just a few moments later and scurries into the bathroom.

 

“How are you doing my dear?” She asks, wiping her hands on her apron as she come back into the bedroom.

 

“I’m fine, thank you.” You say with a smile. The older woman moves over to you and takes the silver stray from in front of you, and turns for the door.

 

“I’ll be back momentarily dear!” She calls out behind her. You nod but remain in your chair, watching as two birds circle in the distant sky. You watch as they remain equidistant from one and other. You couldn’t really tell which was leading and who was following, it almost seemed as though it was neither.

 

You hear your bedroom door open and close again, and assume that the feet moving into your room are Ruth’s, that is until you realize that’s not the sound of Ruth walking. You turn in your chair, and standing there, almost  as if she could’ve been a ghost, is Serena.

 

“Hi!” She says loudly with a big smile. She sets the small suitcase she has with her on the floor and throws her arms into the air. You jump up from your seat and rush into her arms. You squeeze your sister tight.

 

“How’d you get here?” You say, stepping back and looking at her.

 

“Alfie called me yesterday. Said there was room for one more in the wedding, but that it was a surprise for you. Told me to come up here whenever I got in.” As she explains your heart feels full. You’re happy to have your sister there and thankful that Alfie changed his mind even if it was only a bit.

 

You embrace her again quickly then pull her to sit on the edge of your bed with you. “I have some explaining to do,” you admit, and Serena’s expression becomes one of curiosity. You explain to her about your working with Alfie now. You explain that no one else can know that you’re a part. You explain your paintings, you explain the shooting. And finally, you get to the part you dreaded sharing with her the most. You knew Serena, but you had no clue how she would react.

 

As gently as you can you tell her of your evolving relationship with Alfie. You tell her about dinners together and of your run in late at night in your study. Then you tell her about the unreciprocated intimacies. How he refused you that part of himself. She listens carefully and intently the entire time. Nodding and humming in agreement or sighing in disgust when necessary.

 

“But he, ya know, showed signs of arousal?” Serena asks, her eyebrows raised as she patiently waits for your answer. You nod and she shakes her head slightly. “Sounds like Mr. Solomons has his own things to work through.”

 

“I mean he’s told me repeatedly that it’s not me, that it’s him, but the man's not a virgin, he obviously knows what he’s doing. It’s not me, I’m just a factor in why he can’t? I don’t get it.” You run your hand through your hair, pulling it back out of mild frustration. “He even told me he doesn’t think the Yichud would be observed.”

 

Serena shakes her head, “And you’ve told him you would like to?” You nod. “Well, it is his house I guess, and his business deal.” She rolls her eyes.

 

“There’s a chance it may happen. I told him last night it was up to him. He didn’t reply, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t change his mind.” You stand from the bed move over to your desk to check the time. It was nearly noon, the ceremony wasn’t until the evening, so you had plenty of time to prepare.

 

A knock comes at the door and when you lift your head you see Ruth peeking out from behind the door. “Sorry to interrupt! I wanted to see if you two needed anything.”

 

“Have you met Serena?” You ask as Ruth steps into the room.

 

She nods, “Alfie told me she was coming, directed her right up here when she arrived.” She says with a smile, which Serena returns easily. “I just wanted to check if you ladies wanted any coffee or tea or anything. I have a bit more to do downstairs for the ceremony. Alfie also said the Jimmy would be by about 3 to help get you ready.”

 

“We’re perfectly fine Ruth, thank you so much.” You smile and quickly embrace the older woman.

 

“It’s your wedding day doll, anything for you.” You hug again quickly and she says farewell before departing back downstairs.

 

You bathe while Serena takes a nap in your bed. Charles had her up all night, so she was exhausted already. When your finish bathing you slip into a long robe and go into your closet, so not to wake Serena. You stand and take in your dress alone for a moment. You wonder if Alfie would veil you as you had been told your whole life that your husband would the day you married. You let your hand run gently over the lace of the long veil, and sigh softly.

 

You just needed more time before the wedding. Time to figure Alfie out. This life out. The business out. Who you were now. You wanted to go into this confident that Alfie would help with your veil as was custom. Confident that he would choose to observe the Yichud. The seclusion never really mandated sex, but a separation of the new united front from others to vow a level of intimacy between the new couple. If he chose to allow this short time together you weren’t even sure you wanted to have him in that way. You just wanted a show from Alfie that he was willing to be intimate with you in the eyes of others.

 

“Liza?” You hear Serena call from your bed. You leave the dress and return to your room. “Sorry I just woke up and you weren’t here. I thought you left.”

 

“It’s okay.” You move over to the bed and sit on the edge. “How do you focus on the good bits? It’s like I see them, and all they do is remind me of the times they’re not there.”

 

Serena moves next to you from under the covers. “I know,” She says as she leans against your side and rests her head on your shoulder. “It’s not about expecting it all the time. It’s about cherishing it when it’s there and understanding that all the other times are working until the next minute it hits you. It’s about letting go when Charles spits up on me, because I know that later when Ed comes home, I’ll hear his giggles and see that the life I brought into the world is experiencing his own happiness. Make your own happiness and share it with others, allow them to share theirs with you. Take in the tough bits because they only make the sparkle brighter.”

 

You nod and process her words carefully. You wished you could speak so freely to Alfie in such a way. You thought he could stand to hear the same message. “It’s a skill.”

 

Serena nods, “It certainly is something you’ll need to practice. It not easy either. So much easier not to in fact. But if you can’t do it for anyone else, do it for you. Don’t let anyone take it. Not Alfie.”

 

“But I'd like for him to be happy too,” You admit.

 

“That’s not your responsibility yet. You may be becoming his wife but if he cannot stand to share himself with you emotionally and physically, then he is relinquishing you of that responsibility until he can figure his own issues out. This may not of been the best of circumstances for either of you to be with the other, but it’s what got handed to you. If he wants you to be his partner, he need to be yours.” You nod, Serena was correct as usual. You sit with her in silence for a little while before a soft knock comes to your bedroom door. You call for them to come in and Jimmy comes through the door, a briefcase in hand.

 

“Hello doll! Congratulations!” He says as he sets his briefcase on a chair near the door. “You must be Serena,” He moves over to the bed as the two of you stand. Serena and Jimmy quickly embrace, and then it hits you. You were actually marrying Alfie Solomons today. You would no longer be Eliza Fischer but Eliza Solomons, wife of notorious murderer, booze maker and thief,  Alfie Solomons.

 

You feel your knees go weak a little and brace yourself with an easy hand on Jimmy’s  shoulder. “Let’s get started shall we?”

 

“Yes, of course, I see you’ve already bathed, so we can get right to the fun bit.” Jimmy leads you and Serena into the closet and Serena sits on the ottoman in the middle. You make your way to the undergarment part of your closet with Jimmy. He pulls out a white slip and matching knickers and a white brassiere with cups of lace. He hands you the piece and waves you off to the bathroom to change into them.

 

When you return you find him with Serena, holding one of your dresses up to her, both of them facing one of the long mirrors. “I knew you came over just to steal my clothes,” You say to Serena with a laugh.

 

“Might need to borrow something for the ceremony.” She replies with a shrug and you roll your eyes playfully.

 

You move over to your dress and softly stroke the lace of the skirt. Jimmy comes over and reaches for the hanger the dress is on. “Come on, lovely. Time to put this to good use.”

 

He takes the hanger out and unbuttons the dress. He and Serena help you step into the dress and fasten the few buttons up at the neck. You tug on the long lace sleeves, that end in a scalloped hem just at your wrists. You take a long look at yourself in the mirror and find happiness in how you look in the dress, not focusing on why you were in it in the first place.

 

You help Jimmy find Serena a dress, a soft blush colored dress with short sleeves you had yet to wear. You fix her hair up first, discussing the ways you could do your hair with Jimmy as he worked. You settle on an updo that still allowed some of the curls that frame your face to hang freely. After hair, you were onto makeup. Nothing very extreme for you, Jimmy opted for a light shadow and blush but not much else, the dress was already a statement he tells you, best to go with a more natural look.

 

By the time you have your shoes and jewelry all on, including the ring Alfie has given you, there comes another knock at the door. Jimmy answers it with, “Well hello there Alfie, aren’t you looking dapper?” You look up at Serena and you wonder if she had even met him yet. Jimmy lets Alfie in, but doesn’t shut the door behind him. You stand and place your hand on Serena’s upper arm. Alfie was wearing a classically perfectly tailored suit, with a tighter fitting white shirt and white tie, which was tucked into his buttoned black vest. His hair was combed neatly and his shoes were shiny and unscuffed. You watch him take you in, standing there in your wedding dress, and you find that you can’t read his expression.

 

“Alfie have you met my sister Serena yet?” You move with her over toward him and Alfie extends a hand for her to shake.

 

“I ‘aven’t formally, but I did when we spoke on the phone yesterday.” They shake quickly and you can see the gears turning in her head.

 

“Nice to meet you Mr. Solomons.” She says in a level tone, impossible to glean any emotion, one way or another from her at all.

 

“Figured yall were near ending with gettin ready since the weddin’s soon. Thought I would I would come set your veil as is traditional, if you would like.” He directs the last bit at you.

 

“That’s very considerate Alfie, thank you. That would be lovely.” Jimmy moves to retrieve the final touch but Serena shakes her head and takes him by the arm.

 

“It’s best if we leave them to it. Jewish thing. Let’s see if Ruth needs any last minute help.” Jimmy nods and shoots you a wink before departing, closing the door behind them.

 

You turn to Alfie for a moment before going over to the veil. You pick it up carefully, folding the long light lace up in your hand. Alfie moves over to the desk where you are and peeks over your shoulder. You turn and hand it to him and he takes it with a confused look on his face. He carefully unfolds the top half of the veil and locates the little clips that are supposed to hold it secure in your hair. You bow a little as he places the material over your head and the clips click into place. You feel the weight of the veil as he lets the rest unfold as it falls down your back to the floor. The edge of the lace just frames your face, but doesn’t quite cover it completely.

 

“You look,” Alfie begins, his eyes searching over your face and body. “Absolutely stunning.” You smile and blush lightly at the compliment.

 

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” You say, reaching up and stroking the lapel of his jacket. He chuckles and that buzzing from the morning was back under your skin.

 

“I know I’m not supposed to do this but, I think God will forgive me,” Alfie says, as you feel him place a hand on your hip. He pulls you in closer and you willfully move into him, your bodies pressing together, just as his mouth connects with yours. It begins chaste, a sweet innocent kiss between soon to be man and wife, but after a moment it picks up more. The hand on your hip remains there but the other comes to your neck and jaw, pulling you up into his kiss.

 

You moan against his mouth as his skilled tongue goes to work. He luscious lips are soft but demanding against yours, hungry really. He moves his head back and disconnects from you, taking a small step back but keeping his hands in place. His thumb caresses your cheek softly.

 

“There will not be a Yichud during the ceremony.” It rolls out of his mouth so simply that it takes you a moment to process his words. Just as your eyes grow wide and you feel emotions beginning to stur, and words forming, Alfie interrupts your train of thought. “But I see no harm in a man an wife sharin’ a bed the night of their holy union. If you’d like to come sleep in me room with me tonight, that could be okay.”

 

You’re actually speechless. He wanted to be with you, even if not in a sexual way, to prove the Yichud regardless, but as you figured, preserving your modestly in front of the guests for the evening came first to Alfie. You were even further surprised he invited you to his room. You hadn’t even been in there before, let alone spent the night with him. You’re elated, but reel it in, settling for throwing your arms around Alfie’s neck. He squeezes you and your realize this was your first real hug, causing you to giggle.

 

“You’re literally gigglin’ like a schoolgirl there darlin’.” He says as he moves back and looks down at you.

 

“For some reason you make me feel like one.” You admit with a smile and Alfie shakes his head while laughing lightly.

 

“I know we have the ceremony an’ all but there’s somethin’ else I wanted to say first.” You nod and hold eye contact with him. “I didn’t know who you were as a person yeah, when I picked you. Thought, this is a nice young lass who’s indebted to me anyway, easy. I needed someone fast, and at short notice, and from all the places I coulda gone to look, I’m glad I went to your father’s shop. You have been kinder to me than I deserve as someone who made you sacrifice so much. I’m not sure I understand why you’ve been in such a way. Regardless, I am grateful I had the sense to pick you. “

 

You can’t help but smile at his words. He told you repeatedly about hearing your honesty, and now you felt you heard his. “It certainly wasn’t how I thought my spring, or well my life, was going to go,” you admit, pausing to take a breath. “But I’m happy that if it had to go like this, that I’m along for the ride with you. It may not be the life I would’ve chosen for myself, but it’s okay, sometimes the world has bigger plans for us. All we have to do is have a little faith.”

 

Alfie smiles down at you and offers his arm. “Shall we go get hitched then?” He asks his question with a cheeky smile, one that reminds you of Joseph for a moment. You shake the thought from your head gently and loop your arm through Alfies. The two of you make your way to the top of the staircase nearer to your room, and your jaw drops as you see down into the foyer over the bannister. There’s a long white isle made of a thick looking fabric lined with beautiful clipped blue flowers. At the far end is the Chuppa, and you recognize the material hanging over the top as the same that covered your parents and you wonder if Alfie or Serena had arranged that. Wrapped around the the posts of the Chuppa were more wisteria and blue hyacinth, making the Rabbi look like an old forest elf in a field of flowers.

 

Alfie took you down the stairs and you smile at Ruth and George. George was in a suit rather than his usual kitchen attire. Ruth, though, wore her usual modest smock, but her apron was the embroidered one you had given her as a gift, and you can’t help but shoot her a toothy smile, which she returns. Serena and Jimmy stand with them as well, and you’re not so sad anymore about the size of the wedding. Alfie hadn’t many guests to call upon himself, these people here were the closest thing to shared family that the two of you had.

 

You and Alfie make your way down the stairs and continue past the few guests up the isle to meet the Rabbi under the Chuppa. Alfie releases your arm and to your surprise, quickly embraces the older man when he opens his arms. “This is Rabbi Kleinbaum, my closest confidant, spiritual leader, and a man I am lucky to call a dear friend.” He’s a little older than your father, more wrinkled, and whiter hair, but his smile and his eyes express youth beyond measure.

 

You extend a hand to the Rabbi, but he dismisses it, opening his arms for a hug. His old eyes crinkle at you as he smiles and you move into his arms. “Very nice to meet you my dear,” He says in a deep, but shaky with age, voice, right near your ear. He steps back but keeps his hand on your shoulder. “Shall we?”

 

You and Alfie nod, and you glance back at Serena, who is standing nearer to you now, with the rest of the group. Rabbi Kleinbaum begins speaking in hebrew, and you hear serena quietly translating for Jimmy behind you. Rabbi Kleinbaum opens the ceremony by thanking everyone for being there, and begins explaining the circling and it’s meaning. When he’s finished he instructs you to begin walking your circles around Alfie, seven in total.

 

When you return to Alfies right side, the Rabbi gives you another rose-cheeked grin and picks up one of two glasses of wine from the table behind him. He lifts the glass slightly up and out from his chest and begins reciting traditional hebrew blessings over the glass. He thanks God for bringing you all to this most joyful occasion, and you feel your eyes sting.

 

You weren’t joyful, and from what you could tell, neither was Alfie. For a moment you lose yourself back into those thoughts that have haunted you from the moment you had stepped into the house. You were trapped, you didn’t get to have a single say in who the rest of your life was to be spent with. This would most likely be the only wedding you would ever have, and the tears at your eyes were not ones of joy. You glance over at Alfie, whose attention is on Rabbi Kleinbaum and blink to clear the tears. It would be okay, you reassured yourself, it would all be okay.

 

You take the wine glass as it is offered to you and sip before passing it to Alfie who follow suit. Rabbi Kleinbaum switches back to English from Hebrew and announces that the vows had already been shared in private, so that portion of the ceremony would be skipped. You wonder for a moment if Alfie speaking to you before the ceremony had been your vows, but you had no way of knowing. For all you knew your contract with Alfie for work had been your vows.

 

Rabbi Kleinbaum picks up a second glass of wine, holding it up higher than the first, and begins to sing the seven blessings in Hebrew. He finishes singing and translates his words, mostly for Jimmy, before returning to hebrew for the priestly blessing, asking God to send you and Alfie protection, enlightenment and intimacy in your marriage. He hands Alfie the glass first this time and he sips before passing it to you. While you sip Rabbi Kleinbaum speaks of the wonders of marriage and procreation and community in English, taking the glass from you when you’re done. After he replaces the wine on the table he lifts his hands and smiles at Alfie, who lifts his foot and lets it down on a glass wrapped in cloth on the ground. With the thud of his foot and the shattering from the glass, Rabbi Kleinbaum and the group behind you erupt into a unanimous, “Mozel tov!”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Just a couple hours after the ceremony you find yourself embracing Serena at your front door as she prepares to head back home for the night. You said farewell to all of your guests with Alfie, and even convinced Ruth to retire early and finish cleaning the mess in the morning. Once the front door shut behind Serena you were officially alone with Alfie. He extends a hand to you, which you take in yours, and allow him to lead you up the stairs closer to his room than yours.

 

You walk silently on, noticing that you’re not a bundle of nerves as you figured you would be. Alfie opens the door to his room and welcomes you in, before shutting the door behind you. Just as his study screamed of Alfie’s presence, his room did as well. It’s layout was fairly similar to yours, but larger you thought. All of the furniture was heavy and dark and made of solid wood and worn leather. The massive bed in the middle of the room had great wooden columns at each corner, each with a white curtain pulled back and tied together around it.

 

The room smelt like him too, all the dark spices and rum. The only art that hung on the walls was Boreas by John Waterhouse, above the headboard of the bed. You moved over to the edge of the huge expanse of a bed and look up at the painting in wonder. You hear Alfie move closer behind you and you feel comfortable among all of these things he kept. There were bookshelves in any open space around the room, filled to the brim with books of all sorts.

 

“I must bathe,” Alfie starts from behind you, and you turn to meet his gaze. “Please make yourself feel comfortable. If you need anything from your room or anything, do what you must.” You notice a slight edge to his words, as if he was unsure of them. He departs with nothing else, closing the door behind him as he enters the bathroom. You elect to pull off your veil and let your hair down. It takes a flexible arm, the help of a mirror and a couple tries, but you manage to release the buttons on the back of your dress, and slide the whole thing off, leaving you in the white silk slip Jimmy had paired with the dress.

 

After laying the dress over the back of a chair at a desk and your shoes on the floor next to it, you tiptoe over to the bookshelf and begin examining the titles on the books, finding some choices you thought were excellent and some you would need to remember to ask to borrow. When you’re done looking at the books you decide to crawl onto the bed. It envelops you immediately, thick fluffy soft blankets greeting you warmly.  You tuck your knees beneath you and sit in what you figure is the dead center of the square. Having a bed this big made no sense to you, especially for a man like Alfie.

 

A moment later the door to the bathroom opens and a layer of steam rolls out across the hardwood floor. Alfie emerges with a towel wrapped around his waist. His broad chest reddened by the heat from the water, droplets of water clinging to his patch of chest hair. A few tattoos litter his chest and shoulder and you’re surprised you missed those. You realize that you’re staring at him only when you realize he’s staring at you.  

 

“Good bath?” You manage to crack out softly, and Alfie smiles, reaching up and running a hand through his wet hair. You watch his arm flex as he does so, his skin pulling taught against his hard stomach, muscles working smoothly below. Your eyes fall to his hips and the edge of the towel that runs between them. You suck in your bottom lip and flick your eyes back up to meet his gaze. Behind those warm golden brown irises you could see something stirring, and you immediately knew Alfie changed his mind on his terms.

 

Alfie cooley begins walking toward the bed, and you sit up straighter. He crooks a finger at you, and you follow the silent command, crawling over to meet him at the edge of the bed. When you meet there, one of his hands comes up and gently cradles the side of your face. “I’ve had some thought,” Alfie begins, and you just nod slightly, not wanting to interrupt or stop him for any reason. “It’s a night for celebration yeah? And, uh, seein’ how you’ve never takin’ a man before, I thought that I owe it to you to show you how a woman should be proper treated. Can’t have you out there pursuing men who don’t treat you right can we? And you can only know right if someone shows you huh?” It made sense, but was obviously much more Alfie convincing himself than you.

 

“So if you’d have me,” he picks up again, his eyes lock on yours and you give a sweet and supportive smile. He moves his head lower and his hand moves down your face, his fingers coming to your chin to tilt your face upward. Butterflies stirred up low in your stomach and you let your eyes flutter shut. Alfie chuckles lightly just before connecting your lips. Your mouths move slowly and tenderly against one another. A soft moan slips from your mouth and you feel Alfies smile against yours. His other hand moves to the back of your head just before he pulls away, and you open your eyes.

 

“Lay back, darling,” Alfie instructs, gesturing to the head of the bed. You don’t want to take your eyes off of him. He exuded strong, sexual, masculine energy, and you cling to it, how it makes you feel. You move backward on the bed, keeping your eyes on Alfie as you go back and up to the middle of the bed. He moves after you, following you up to the line of pillows at the head, coming over you as he moves.

 

He crawls like a predatory animal up your body, but he’s tender, soft as he drags a finger from your belly button, up your stomach and between your breasts. “He’s gotta move slowly. Be thoughtful. Boys fuck for fun, men fuck for pleasure.” You nod and his other fingers join his pointer on your chest, and slide up your neck and back and around, lacing his fingers through your hair and pulling lightly. “He’s gotta make you feel like you’re his, like there’s nothin’ else in this world he could want.” His head moves down and he kisses along your jaw, up to your ear. His voice is low and sensual as he speaks softly into you ear, “Like being inside of you is gonna end life as he knew it.”

 

You nod and your mouth parts to speak, but no words come out, just a soft gasp. His words were intoxicating, clouding your brain and sending a buzz through you that seemed to escape from your body as a wetness between your legs. You reach up and place a hand on Alfies neck and let your fingertips brush lightly against his hair. Alfie reconnects your mouth, and his hand moves down from your neck, dragging lightly over your skin, stopping only to cup your breast. When your mouths disconnect he leaves you breathless against the pillows.

 

Alfies hand moves down to the hem of your dress, down on your thighs and begins tugging it lightly up. The two of you sit up, Alfie with a knee on either side of you, and pull your slip over your head. Alfie tosses it to the floor and you reach around to the clasp of your bra, connecting the back. Alfie slides his finger to the strip of fabric connecting the cups and pulls it forward down your arms. It joins your slip on the floor next to the bed. Alfie moves back and slides your legs up and out from below him, keeping his hands on your knees. He pushes your legs apart and his gaze falls to your panty covered slit.

 

“You’ve ruined your knickers love,” Alfie says, his voice low. He reaches a hand out and drags a finger up your core. You feel cool wet fabric press against you and you gasp. “You’re absolutely drenched aren’t you.” His smile is absolutely wicked, and you wonder what he’s thinking about.

 

“Alfie,” You venture softly, and his eyes flick up to yours. “Help me out of them please.”

 

His features soften and his hands moving to the outside of your hips, thumbs sliding under the fabric. He pulls them down your legs, but tosses them up to the side table near the head of the bed, rather than on the floor with the rest of your clothing.

 

He reaches a hand between your legs and drags two fingers up your slit, finding that tight throbbing bud and slowly rubbing circles around it. Your back arches and you whimper involuntarily. Alfie chuckles. “It’s important to build tension, take it slowly, makes the end much more enjoyable. A man should be able to hear your body tell him what you want, but he must learn your body.” He reaches his pinky up and drags it across the soft skin abound your core, and a shiver runs up your spine.

 

His fingers pick up their pace and he twists his hand, bringing his pinky down to your entrance and applying subtle pressure. “Men who don’t pleasure their women get called selfish yeah, but it’s us who please our women first who are really selfish innit?” His finger begins to slide into you and you gasp at the stretching sensation. “Nothing feels better around a cock than a satisfied cunt.” He removes his pinky and moves his head down.

 

His tongue and lips begin their assault on your most sensitive area and your hands slip down to Alfies on your hips. You slide your hands over his and grip the sides of his hands. You squeeze tighter as that warmth grows low in your belly once again. The wet noises coming from between your legs flooded your ears, when Alfies moans joined the chorus your back would arch from the bed. His mouth was heavy on your core, never pulling up or back while he licked and sucked at you. You only felt yourself becoming more and more undone for Alfie, he could have stayed there all night and you would have loved it.

 

Your nails dig into the skin of Alfie’s hands and your mouth falls open in a silent ‘o’ as you feel yourself reach the edge. With the press of his tongue against your entrance, you whimper Alfies name softly as your orgasm overtakes you. His mouth works faster and your hips roll against his face, his beard tickling your thighs. You’re laying back in the lush pillows, trying to catch your breath as Alfie comes up beside you. He’s breathing heavy as well but his is much more under control. He props his head up on one hand and rolls into his side to face you.

 

“Thank you,” You say softly, looking over at him.

 

He smiles and laughs softly. “You’re very welcome, love.” His free hand reaches out, and his middle finger drags softly over your stomach. His gaze follows his fingers path and your eyes fall to the towel around his waist.

 

“Alfie?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Can i touch you?”

 

He looks up at you, he knows exactly what you mean. His hand lifts from you and moves to his towel. “You’re sure you want to?”

 

“Absolutely Alfie.” You keep your voice soft, but level and strong.

 

He pulls one side of the towel and it falls from where it was tucked. It was sunning, and made that yearning between your legs grow. It was eight inches at the least, and thick, just as the rest of him was. Beautiful veins ran up and down it, as it reaches for his belly, a small pearl of precum on the tip. Your eyes fall to the large twin weights below and you blush. He was stunning. Like the most brilliant painting you had ever seen.

 

You roll onto your side to face him and cautiously reach a hand downward. You tentatively take him in your hand, and you immediately understood why they said men got hard. It was solid and heavy in your hand, which you slowly moved downward. It twitched in your hand and you look up to Alfie, whose eyes are on you, wonder on his face.

 

You move your hand faster and twist slightly as you pull up and Alfies eyes shut, his hands balling into fists. You pull back instinctively, that was angry Alfie. But the second you do his hands release and his eyes open.

 

“What’s wrong?” He asks, his eyes flicking down and back up.

 

“Nothing, I thought i wasn’t doing good, you didn’t look happy, I-“

 

“You’re wrong,” Alfie interrupts. His hand moves out and takes yours replacing it around his cock. “Move slowly first, let me feel you touch me. Then bring your thumb up over the tip.” His hand guided yours for a moment, but releases and you move again, following his instructions. “The tip of a cock is your best friend darlin’ treat him well.”

 

You nod and let your thumb slide through the pearl of cum and swirl it around the head. Alfie groans in pleasure and you smile. You move you hand a touch faster and let your other hand venture down below the base of his cock. You gently run your fingers over the neglected weights and Alfie sucks in air sharply.

 

“Feelin’ adventurous darlin’?” His smile matches his teasing tone and you blush. “Don’t be afraid, rub ‘em. You’re in charge, do what feels right, you’ll know if it’s not workin.”

 

You massage the weights lightly in your hand and pick up the pace of your other hand. Alfie strains and you look up at him.  He looks like he might explode, but was doing his best to mask it.

 

“Alfie?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“I want you inside of me.”

 

He reaches down with his free hand and pulls your hands away from him. He moves his hand up and takes your face in it. He pulls your face down gently and connects yours lips feverishly. You give into the lusty kiss and moan against his mouth sensually. He pulls away and rolls onto his back. Alfie extends and hand to yours and pulls you over him. You straddle him, a knee on each side of his hips. His cock laying on his belly beneath your core.

 

“It may hurt. If we do it like this it will hurt less for you. If it hurts too much I need you to tell me okay?” You nod. “No. Tell me. I’m not going to have you in pain because you think it’s important I fuck you. I’m not going to hurt you. Tell me.”

 

“Okay, I will tell you.” You lean down and kiss him softly. When you pull back up his hand slides down to his cock, and he picks it up and lines it up with your entrance above him. His free hand moves to your hip, and you place a hand on top of it. You feel his head against your entrance and just the pressure is driving you crazy.

 

“Slowly,” He says, his hand softly guiding your hip downward as his move up. The tip slides in easily, but you quickly understood of the pain in which he spoke. The stretching grew both more pleasurable and painful as he pushed farther in.

 

“You okay love?” He asks calmly and you nod, not looking up from where his cock disappears inside you. He continues pushing in and suddenly it’s all pleasure. You press down slightly faster, as the friction coupled with the stretch was mind melting. Alfie laughs softly as you reach the base of his cock. “You’re so fucking tight.” Alfie says breathily. Both of his hands move to your hips and in a flash youre rolled onto your back, Alfies cock not moving an inch as he flips you.

 

He slowly begins to pull out and your hands move to grasp his biceps, crying out softly at the loss, but before he leaves you entirely he pushes back in, and that wonderful mixture of friction and pressure returns. You moan, a hearty, sultry, pleasured woman moan and Alfie practically growls. His head moves down and captures your lips for a lusty kiss as his hips pick up their pace, moving him inside of you. He breaks the kiss as your lungs are burning for oxygen and you moan loudly. Alfies hips moved hard and fast, and you had to keep hold of him to stay in one spot. Your legs wrap up around his waist, and he moans before picking up his pace.

 

“You have the most magnificent cunt i’ve ever felt.” He says, his voice low. “Your perfect, tight pink wet little cunt.”

 

That twisting tightens at his words and you moan softly. Alfie grins and his hips move faster. “So my sweet little virgin, hows my cock?” He asks roughly as he pumps in and out of you, his face burying himself in the crook of your neck, and tangle of hair.

 

“So good,” You moan. “So big, ahh, so, hard,” Was all you could manage. Alfie chuckles against your skin and the sound only furthers the strength of the stirring inside you. Alfies pace slows slightly, but his strokes are more deliberate now, more powerful. Alfie pulls himself up from you a little and brings his mouth to your ear.

 

“There’s a spot inside ‘o every woman,” He begins, his voice low and raspy. He moves his hips differently now, slower, more drawn out strokes. “Tiny little thing and that’s your g-spot darlin’. A man who knows how to use this is a man indeed.” The head of his cock drags slowly down the inside of your walls and suddenly the pressure it provided in a certain spot inside you, took you by surprise, an immediate moan escaping your lips.

 

“There she is,” Alfie chuckles, slowly moving his cock back up, rubbing against that most sensitive spot once again. The pace of his hips pick up and he plays with his new discovery, one that leaves you speechless, moans falling from your lips with no control.

 

Alfie hips pick up pace again and now you’re being really, truely, thoroughly fucked by Alfie Solomons, and there’s nothing else you want to be doing. You wondered what it would feel like to have him cum inside you, and you wondered if he would. Part of you wanted him to.

 

“Alfie,” You say softly, and his head lifts up to meet your gaze, his hips pumping against you all the while. “Yes,  more, I, aaahh, I need more, Alfie please,” You beg softly. Your release was just over the horizon but all you needed was a little more to get there. Your hands move to his back, and your nails sink into the skin on his shoulders, and Alfie moans loudly and you feel your walls tighten around his cock. His fingers move down and find that magic little bud, and begin their swirls and circles.

 

Your orgasm tackles you first, hitting you hard, so hard in fact that you can feel the product of your climax drip down the inside of your thighs. Alfie curses as you come, and when his hips begin to stutter in their rhythm he pulls himself from you. Before you have time to ask why he did that before he came, Alfie is shooting warm loads of cum across your belly.

 

You move to put your hands around Alfies neck, to bring him closer for a kiss, but he pulls away, and moves off the bed. You sit up and watch him disappear into his walk in closet. You look down to the mess on your stomach, and curiosity overcomes you. Reaching a finger down you dip it into the warm sticky mess on your stomach, and slowly bring it to your mouth. It’s saltier than you thought it would be, but not unpleasant.

 

You look back up the the closet to find Alfie standing the the doorway, white cotton boxers slung low on his hips, and a small cloth in his hand. His eyes are wide and locked on you, causing you to slowly remove the finger from your mouth.

 

“I’m sorry, I just got curious I guess, I-.”

 

Alfie interrupts you again, moving toward the bed as he speaks. “There’s nothing to apologize for,” He takes the rag and carefully cleans the mess he left on your stomach. When the job is done Alfie balls up the rag and tosses it through the open door of the bathroom to land on the floor somewhere. You sit up and instinctively your hand and forearm go to cover your breasts. Alfie turns back to the closet and disappears inside once more. When he come back out he has one of his billowy white shirts with a few buttons just at the top.

 

He comes over to the bed and hands you the shirt, which you slip over your head, and once it’s pulled down you realize it’s much more a dress than a shirt on you. “Scoot over,” He says, and you slide over. He pulls the top most blanket down the bed, and you notice a wet spot where the two of you had been earlier. You wondered if that was because of you.

 

You help Alfie pull back the blankets and crawl under them as Alfie slides under the blankets with you. At first there’s an uncomfortable amount of room between the two of you, and you quickly find yourself settling for that. He had already shared so much of himself with you after all, to expect anymore would’ve been selfish and foolish.

 

Before you even feel any movement on the mattress, on from the blankets, one of Alfie’s arms moves around your waist and pulls you back against him, rolling you into your side as he moves you. It was like your body was tailor made to fit against his, like when you watched your father make jewelry and two links of a chain would click together perfectly, or a jewel is placed perfectly snug in its setting.

 

You feel his forehead come to rest against the back of your shoulder and you let out a soft breath. Vulnerability. Alfie had given you a Yichud and so much more. He had proven his trust in you, his willingness to share, and most importantly, he was vulnerable with you. Most people may not consider one round of sex where the man spoke about other men having you for the majority of the activity, vulnerability, but from Alfie Solomons an act such as that, was equal to laying on his back and showing you his belly.

 

You let your eyes grow heavy as a wave of fatigue hits you. You wondered if it was the greater events of the day, or what had just taken place in the bed you were laying in, which exhausted you so. Either way, the only place you cared to be after either, was exactly where you were, in Alfie arms, and no one else’s.

 

“Alfie?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“You’re the only man I want to pursue.”


	14. To Take a Day Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfie takes a day off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was a lot of smut in the last chapter so here’s a little break, with a lot more smut. lol, did i get ya? 
> 
> NSFW 
> 
> enjoy

You awake in the same exact position with Alfie that you had fallen asleep in. You were happily surprised Alfie hadn’t left. You move slowly and carefully, turning in his arms so you faced him. When you’re turned around you rest your head against Alfies chest, and he lets out a sigh, his arms pulling you closer against his body. You had never really been held by a man before Alfie, but you could help but melt into him.

 

“I took the day off work,” Alfie speaks slowly, his voice low. “I have no intention of leaving this bed.” There’s a thread of exhaustion in his words and you wonder when the last time he took a day off for himself was.  Alfie hand moves over your back and up into your hair, his fingers twisting themselves into your curls.

 

You begin to wonder if perhaps he wanted this time to himself. His only real day off since you had met him, and you were interjecting yourself smack in the middle. You pull your head back and look up to Alfie, who is looking down at you. “Do you want me to go?”

 

Alfie brows furrow and his mouth parts slightly. He shakes his head.  “If it weren’t for you I wouldn’t be havin’ a day off at all would I? Don’t go.”

 

It wasn’t exactly what you wanted to hear, but you would take it. You replace your head on his chest and let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Alfie’s fingers move lazily through your hair, playing with the soft stands. You lay like this for a while, fading in and out of sleep, listening to the thud of Alfie’s heart hard at work in his chest.

 

After some time Alfie lets out a heavy sigh and rolls away from you, onto his back. You prop your head up on your hand and look down at him. You quickly begin to try and memorize what he looked like, eyes closed, his messy hair on the pillows, an arm resting across his stomach, the other resting, bent on the pillows above his head. He was open, and vulnerable laying there, just as you had been last night when Alfie showed you how a man should treat you. You commit the image to your memory, something you would surely like to paint later.

 

Alfie opens his eyes, his thick long lashes fluttering softly as he looks from the ceiling to you. “I think I need another bath,” Alfie says, pulling the top part of his body from the bed, holding himself up with a bent elbow. His eyes search your face quickly and his free hand moves up to rub the back of his neck. “Would you like to join me?”

 

You give him a cheeky smile which he returns. He stands from the bed but instructs you to stay. You listen as the faucet for the tub begins running, and hear Alfie’s feet move across the tile of the bathroom. A few moments later he returns to the bedroom, running a hand through his hair as he steps back out of the bathroom. His eyes flick up to you, as you sit on your knees near the edge of the bed.

 

Alfie lumbers over to you and you notice his limp playing up more than it had recently. He comes to the edge of the bed and takes your face in his hands gently. He leans down and places a sweet, chaste kiss on your lips. His hands find yours and he gently pulls you from the bed. He releases one of your hands and you follow him into the bathroom. You shut the door behind yourself and smile at the large ceramic tub in the middle of the room. It’s easily twice the size of yours, and the top few inches of the water was a layer of bubbles, which makes you chuckle. Who would’ve thought Alfie Solomons had bubble soap, let alone used it.

 

You reach down to the hem of the shirt you wore and pull it up over you head, letting it fall to the floor behind you. You glance over at Alfie and step over the edge of the bath and slide into the hot soapy water. Alfie stands just on the other side of the porcelain wall that separates you. You watch him as he lets his boxers fall from his hips, revealing his magnificent length and you blush when you notice it’s growing hard again.

 

He joins you in the tub, stepping in at the other end, and sitting to face you. He leans forward, his arms under the water, and you feel his hands come up to your shins, just below your knees. He lightly pulls and you slide across the tub closer to him. You move forward, coming to sit up over his lap. You lift your arms from the water and wrap your them around Alfies neck, grabbing the edge of the tub he leaned against.

 

Alfie moves a hand up from its place on your thigh under the water and reaches to your chin. He pulls you down over his face and kisses you slowly, deliberately. His hand moves to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear and he pulls back. Under the water his hand on your thigh strokes slowly against your skin.

 

This man knew how to torture you already. Just in the state you were in now, sitting naked on his lap, his cock just in front of you, inches from your increasingly aching pussy, he could ask you to do anything and chances are you would.

 

His hand moves down your body to your chest, and lightly pinches your nipple with the side of his pointer finger and his thumb. You gasp lightly as the sensation and Alfie chuckles. You lean back down and reconnect your lips to his, letting your hips roll forward lightly against him. All you would have to do is move a hand down, and you could feel him again.

 

“Eliza?”

 

“Yes?” Your pulled from thoughts of Alfie’s member, and look up to meet his eyes.

 

“Why’s it me you want to spend your time pursuin’?”

 

The words flow from you easily and quickly. “There’s no one else like you. I feel I’ve met a great deal of people but not one had the presence you hold. Your strength, your power. The way you cherish good things. How you dress, your jewelry, and love for the arts. Your kindness. Your willingness to see things from both sides. The way you make me feel when you’re telling old stories to me over dinner. The way you make me feel when you have your arms around me. The way you make me feel when you do thoughtful things.” You pause and change your tone, breathier, you bite your lip before you speak. “The way you make me feel when you’re inside me.”

 

He chuckles at the last bit and you smile. Your hand moves down his chest slowly, dipping below the water, the tips of your fingers dragging lightly over the skin of his belly, just over the head of his cock. Alfie moans softly and you take his cock in your hand, you pump softly, working the head with your thumb.

 

Alfies hand comes under the water to yours and gently pulls your hand from around his cock. He brings your hand up out of the water and softly kisses your knuckles. “There’s somethin’ you’ll have to understand if it’s me you want to waste your time on.” You have to keep yourself from rolling your eyes at his words. A waste of time, Alfie could never be. His hand releases yours, which you place on his chest lightly. His hand moves to your hip and his other to your side, over your ribs.

 

“I don’t often take women for mine yeah? It’s because they can make a mess of things, emotions and such.” You stifle another eye roll and let him continue. “And because I’ve yet to meet a woman I think could stand the challenge of bein’ mine. Except you, me dear. You want a part of the business, you want to be powerful and strong, you want me to be powerful and strong. You’re clever, and talented with a paint brush, you have your little way with words, you’re a survivor.” His hand on your ribs moves up to your face and he strokes your cheek with the back of his fingers. “And you’ve got the tightest little pussy, don’t ya doll?” You nod you head, his words causing pressure in that little pussy.

 

“See there’s some things about bein’ my bird you gotta know before you choose me darlin’, ‘cuz once you choose me, I’m not letting you go for anything in the world yeah?” You blush softly and smile, Alfies hand moves from your cheek to tuck a piece of hair back behind you ear. “First, you cannot have anyone else, ever, for any reason.” You nod quickly and lean down, your face finding the crook of Alfie neck, and you start placing soft kisses there as he continues to speak. “Second, no children, no pregnancy. I haven’t the time for a family, and it’s not safe. If you’re trying to get up the duff, keep lookin’.” You laugh softly, and pull back from his neck.

 

“If I wanted a baby Alfie, I would have one,” You say while your thoughts drift back to Serena and Charles. “And while the thought of carrying a little Alfie sounds exciting, I’m okay just with you, as long as I have you.” Alfie hand on your hip moves up to your flat stomach, and his fingers spread out, his hand practically covering the span of your tummy. His thumb drags back and forth gently and his eyes flick up to you.

 

“Third,” his hand moves away from your stomach. “Any time you’re needin’ me, so long as I am not doing anything more important, and there is rarely anything more important, you have to come to me. No touchin’ yourself, you come find me and I’ll satisfy you,” You nod, you hoped this included his cock, and not just as the first time he satisfied you.

 

“Fourth,” Alfie sits straighter in the tub, and you replace both your hands around his neck, each of his moving back to your waist. Alfie coughs lightly. “I want to lay with you in every way, and a man has needs darling, desires, fantasies even.” You could feel him becoming a little nervous, something you rarely saw from him. You nod and gently smile to encourage him to continue, your hand moving to squeeze his bicep lightly. “There may be times I want to be rougher with you, than I have been so far. On account of your virginity and innocence an’ all I want to move slowly with you, nothin’ too much at first. I’m a very dominant man, Liza, I like takin what’s mine, I like knowin’ it’s mine.”

 

His hand glides down from its place on your hip to the skin just above your slit. “You will always have the right to say no, or stop. I’ll never touch you when you don’t want to be. I won’t force meself on you, and never tell me yes if you mean no.” You nod, and Alfie shakes his head. “Tell me you won’t.”

 

“I can’t imagine a time I wouldn’t want you Alfie,” You begin, “But i promise you Alfie that I will tell you if I don’t.” He nods this time.

 

“Fifth and final, you’re mine as much as I am yours. We have to be a team. We have to be honest with one and other yeah? Were equals in this, you and I. That bein’ said I am a man who protects and claims what’s his, show it off sometimes, and If i am to do that, you must be a good girl for me. Listen to me, follow my directions, trust me blindly if you must.” His fingers move softly over your skin and it takes all of you not to reach down and move them lower. “Takin a woman on, when you’re a man like me is dangerous, part of why I’ve been by myself so long. This is my solemn promise to you, that no harm will come to you so long as I’m around.”

 

You nod again, touched by Alfies promise, warmed by the idea that you were his, and he would protect you. Finally his fingers move lower, his pointer and middle finger finding your clit and rubbing slow circles around it. Your hips roll and you moan softly, making Alfie chuckle slightly.

 

“You like that my little dove?” He asks, his voice lower than before, raspier as well. His fingers pick up their pace and you nod. “Use your word darling.”

 

“Yes, I like it,” You barely manage to get out.

 

“Sir,” Alfie says, his fingers stopping abruptly. “Call me sir when I’m touchin’ you.”

 

“Yes sir,” Your words sound like you’re begging, the loss of friction tormenting you. “Please sir.”

 

Alfie smile grows wide, his free hand moving up out of the water to push back your hair. “Such a quick girl you are.” His fingers begin their dance again and you can’t help but suck your bottom lip into your mouth. “There’s lots of things I’d like to show you, that I think you’d like, but you have be a good girl.”

 

“Yes, sir,” You say, and his fingers pick up their pace.

 

“Such a clever one you,” His fingers pull away but are quickly replaced by his thumb, the pointer and middle finger moving lower to your entrance. They slide in slowly, both at once, and you gasp at a sharp sting of stretching to accommodate him. His fingers crook forward inside you and they move up and slowly back out, straightening out as he pushes back in, only to curl them slightly again. Your hands move quickly to stabilize yourself by taking hold of his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. Alfie chuckles again and you open your eyes, not even realizing that they had shut. You look forward to a very entertained Alfie and blush.

 

“There’s nothin’ to be embarrassed by, doll.” His fingers pump faster, keeping that rhythm he had created. “I want to make you feel good, show me that I’m doing a good job, let me hear you, let me see you in ecstasy. You can’t be vulgar with me love, every sound you make is a chorus to my ears, every movement a feast for my eyes. Build my ego love, praise my actions with your reactions.” His fingers slide from you and you whimper at the loss. You feel the blunt head of Alfie’s cock press against your core and you gasp. “Let me hear you love.”

 

“Please Alfie,” You rock your hips to create some kind of friction between the two of you. “I want you inside of me, sir please, I need it.” You beg softly, moans and gasps escaping between your words and he strokes your core with the tip of his cock. “Please,” you beg breathily.

 

“You want my cock love?” Alfie asks cooly, of course he was calm in this moment.

 

“Yes please sir, I need it.”

 

“Where would you like it darling? Use your words.” He stops his cock just against your entrance, applying pressure but not moving any more.

 

“In my cunny,” You plead, trying to keep your hips still, and under control. “Please sir, I need your cock, please.”

 

Alfie chuckles, and begins pushing slowly inside of you. You must’ve been sore from the previous night as it hurt slightly, but in a different way than it had before. You savor the feeling of him pushing slowly into you, gasping at how full you are when you reach his base. Alfie replaces both of his hands on your hips and you waited for him to do something.

 

His hands move your hips forward and up, causing you to gaps at the friction. “You’re on top love, that means I move when you do.” His hands push you back and down and pull you forward again. “You’ll figure out what feels good, what you like the best, but you have to do the fucking darling.”

 

You begin rocking your hips back and forth, using your hand on his shoulders for leverage, water splashing around you as you move. Alfie hums happily, his head tossing back against the edge of the tub. You move your hips up, leaving just the head of his cock inside you, before sliding back down on it.

 

“Fuck,” Alfie curses, looking down his face at you. You repeat your actions, faster this time though, developing your rhythm based on his reaction. His hands squeeze your hips tightly and you moan shamelessly. Alfie picks his head up and smiles, leaning his head forward and capturing one of your nipples between his lips. He suckles lightly and your hands move to his hair. He chuckles, his breath warm against the skin of your breasts.

 

Alfies hips begin to buck beneath you, finding moments in your movement where he could shift his hips and hit that spot deep inside of you that he discovered the night before. One of his hands moves from your hips and finds your clit again. He massages the bud between two fingers, working faster whenever you moved to slide him back inside of you. You gasp loudly as he softly bites your nipple before moving to the neglected one.

 

After he finished his routine with your other breast, you move his head back and lean down to connect your lips. His tongue delves deeply into your mouth and you moan into his mouth. You feel him smile against your lips and he deepens the kiss, bringing his hand up to take ahold of your hair, and push you closer to him. The pace of your hips increases and you feel your orgasm building once again.

 

“Alfie, I-,” You say after pulling your head back from him. You’re breathing heavily and while Alfies chests pumps for air, your hips still moving in sequence, he’s calm, while you’re completely undone for him. “I think i’m gonna-.” You’re interrupted by your own moan, as Alfies fingers move quicker on your clit.

 

“Come for me darling, let me feel you, show me how I make you feel. Praise me cock with your pleasure my dove.” His grip grows tighter on your hair and you feel your muscles working around his length. Your orgasm washes through you like a wave, leaving you thrown forward against Alfie’s chest and his hips still move under you. After a moment he stops and slides himself out of you, his cock still as hard as it was when he first pushed inside of you.

 

“Alfie,” You say, working to catch your breath. His hand strokes your long hair and he hums out a soft yes. “You didn’t come.”

 

He laughs, his hand still moving in your curls. “I know,” he says casually. “I’ve got the entire day off haven’t I?”

You nod and pull up from your place against him. “And i’ve got you now, so my comin’ is not my greatest concern is it?”

 

“But I want you too Alfie,” You plead. “It doesn’t feel good for me to be the only one who does. It feels one sided Alfie, like you could be doing anything else.”

 

Alfies hand reaches up and he strokes your cheek softly. “There’s nothin’ else I’d rather be doing love, and I can assure you of that. But i told you that you have to be a good girl to get rewarded.”

 

“I wasn’t?” You interrupt, wondering what you had done so wrong. Alfie shakes his head.

 

“You were very good, best girl I’ve ever had. Only thing is, that it’s hard to teach someone to suck cock in a bathtub.” Your mouth parts and your gaze shifts down to the water. Most of the bubbles were gone now, and you could make out Alfies cock laying hard and heavy against his flat stomach.

 

You lift yourself off of him and step out of the tub quickly, pulling a large white towel from the shelf nearby and wrapping it around yourself. Alfie laughs heartily and pulls himself up from the water, which you watch stream down his tanned skin. You grab another towel and once Alfie steps out of the tub you reach around him and wrap the thick soft cloth around his waist, causing him to laugh again, his hand returning to the back of your head.

 

“Someone’s eager.” You nod and flash him a devilish smile. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about taking him into your mouth. You were excited to just please Alfie, to have it be about his release, and not yours.

 

He pulls you by your waist into him and reconnects your mouths, but it’s soft and slow, not as fevered as before. His hands grasp your waist and he lifts you easily, your legs wrapping around his waist, arms around his neck. His hands move to your butt and give you a little squeeze, causing you to giggle, which Alfie returns wit a deep chuckle of his own.

 

He carries you out of the bathroom and back to his bed where he sets you on the edge, and takes a seat next to you. He holds your face in the palm of his hand again and kisses you passionately. He pulls back and rests his forehead against yours for a moment.

 

He pulls back from you but keeps his hand on your jaw. “Slowly,” He says pulling his towel from its tuck around his waist. He takes his length in his hand and slowly strokes it. “It’s not like an ice-lolly, it will take time to grow used to. Keep your lips over your teeth, and think about your tongue.”

 

Your reach out and take him in your hand, his moving behind him, to lean back slightly and rest his weight on it. You move your hand slowly from the base to the tip, running your thumb alone the underside of the shaft and up over the tip. Alfie moans softly as he watches your hand move.

 

You lean down and his free hand moves to the back of your head, but rests there gently, not applying any pressure. You let your tongue peak out and lick the head softly and Alfie moans again, deeper from his chest this time though. You lick him again, but let your lips follow your tongue down, capturing just the tip between them. You suck softly and make a soft wet popping sound as you pull up. Alfies hands massages the base your your head where it meets the top of your neck.

 

You bring your mouth back around him, and slowly take more of him in. You make it only a few inches, your tongue swirling and then sliding against the underside of his shaft. The head of his cock reaches the back of your throat and you gag involuntary. Alfie grunts and his fingers twist in your hair. You move your mouth back up and push down again smoothly, not going quite as far again.

 

You pull your head up and pump your hand over his cock, taking a second to lick the taste of him from your lips. You move carefully from the edge of the bed, onto the floor, between Alfie’s legs. You look up at him, he’s sitting straighter now, looking down at you intently. His hand comes to your face and he wipes spit from your lip with his thumb.

 

“Am I doing alright, sir?” Your hand is stroking him slowly and his hips buck at your words.

 

“I’ve always said you’ve had a way of using’ that mouth of yours.” He laughs lightly. “Not a doubt in me mind you’re a gift from God himself to me, your words, those lips, that tongue, the light of your smile. Makes me want to be a more righteous man.” His hand moves to the back of your head, where your neck met your skull. “But I’m a sinner Eliza, we all are after all. So sinner to sinner yeah, you n’ me, I wanna fill that pretty little mouth with cum.”

 

You couldn’t believe it. You had just gotten off in the bathtub, and your core was already aching for more. Life with Alfie may prove to be more exhausting than you realized. “Oh please sir,” you say softly, running your tongue along the underside of his shaft. A hand moves to the base of his cock and works it gently. You replace your mouth on the tip and run your tongue over the head. Alfies hips roll and you turn your head as you bob your mouth up and down his cock.

 

You go lower and lower, taking more of him in with each down stroke. His cock hits the back of your throat and you stifle the gag, your eyes watering slightly. You look up at Alfie and he’s looking down at you with pure ecstasy on his face, his mouth slack. You begin to pump your head faster, going to the base each time and Alfie grunts loudly, his hips bucking harder, moving his cock roughly in your mouth. You move a free hand up and carefully massage Alfies balls in your hand.

 

“Fuckin lord,” Alfie says lowly his hand pushing your hand lower on his cock, slowing your pace. You moan around his cock and his hips buck, creating more friction. Alfies hips stutter and suddenly your mouth is filled with a warm, thick, sticky, salty liquid. You pull your head up from his cock and swallow his cum. You look up at Alfie and his hands come to the sides of your face. He pulls you up and you climb into his lap.

 

“Did you drink my seed love?” His thumb strokes your jaw softly.

 

You blush. “I did, I’m sorry, I just didn’t know what to do with it, it was in my mouth so i thought i could just swallow it.” Your ramble for an excuse.

 

“Don’t ever apologize for that. It’s really sexy.” You blush harder and Alfie chuckles. “Why do I have the overwhelmin’ feelin’ that this little kitty in me lap is nice and wet.” Alfies hand moves over your shoulder and down your side, finding the overlap of the towel wrapped around you. His hand sneaks between the ends and up your thigh. When he reaches your slit he wastes no time, plunging two fingers inside of you. You gasp loudly at the unexpected entrance and giggle lightly.

 

“Would you look at that, I was right wasn’t I darlin?”

 

“Yes sir,” your gasp, his fingers pumping in and out of you, curling inside of you as they move. His thumb finds your clit and rubs it quickly making you gasp for air, as it seemed that all the oxygen had been sucked from the room. Alfies fingers move faster and you roll your hips against his hands and he laughs.

 

“Are you going to come again for me little one?” Alfies hand plays with their curls on the back of your head and you nod, a moan escaping your lips as his fingers pull out and push back inside of you.

 

You nuzzle your face forward into where Alfies neck meets his shoulder and whimper to him, begging him to let you come. Alfies fingers finally move as quickly as you wanted them too, and you soon find yourself washed over with that wave of satisfaction once again.

 

Alfies fingers had stopped moving but his hand remained where it was as you caught your breath against his chest. When you move back away from him, he takes his fingers from you and brings them up to his mouth, licking and sucking them clean. You watch as his mouth works, the rest of the world melting away, that was until a soft knock comes at the door.

 

“Alfie?” Ruth’s voices comes muffled through the door.

 

“Yes,” Alfie calls back cooly.

 

“I was wondering if you were going to be needed any breakfast, it’s a little late but neither of you came down to eat.”

 

“Bread, fruit and cheeses, some bacon too, and both tea and coffee.” Alfie instructs, his eyes on you, his hand beginning to stroke your hair once more.

 

“Right away,” Ruth says before you hear her shoes disappear down the hall.

 

Alfie moves you quickly up the bed, laying you back in the covers, pulling them up over your naked body, and laying down next to you, but over the covers. Once you’re comfortably situated Alfie moves from the bed back into the closet, and re-emerges in a pair of boxers, another of his shirts in his hand. He tosses you the shirt but you leave it next to you on the bed. You didn’t really see any purpose for it.

 

Alfie moves back to the bathroom for a moment and a knock comes at the door.

 

“I’ve got your breakfast,” Ruth’s voice lilts through the solid oak that separates you. Alfie moves from the bathroom to the door of the bedroom and opens it just enough to get the tray through. Ruth hands him the cramped silver tray, at least what you can see from the wrong side of the door. After a moment Alfie shuts the door with his elbow, and brings the tray over to the bed.

 

You scoot farther across the bed to make more room for the precious new cargo to be set down. Alfie places the tray between you and immediately goes to work taking a slice of toast and carefully selecting slices of cheese and fruit to accompany it. Before you can even decide where to start with the bountiful tray, Alfies hand juts out to you and offers his carefully prepared slice of toast.

 

“Eat,” He says, offering the slice up to you.

 

You take it from him and he begins setting up another slice the same way. You take a bite and moan again, as if Alfies hands were on you. The bread is perfectly toasted, crispy on the outside but soft and chewy and warm inside, the brie cheese provides a creaminess that pairs well with both the apple and pear slices on the very top

 

Alfie smiles and tucks into his own slice he had just finished preparing. You eat in silence. Each time you had only a few bits left, Alfie quickly readied another piece, saving bruised or broken pieces of fruit for his own, giving you only the best from the spread of ingredients between you.

 

After three slices you’re stuffed, so you lay back against the pillows, shaking your head at the food Alfie was offering to you. You watch him eat, laying back in the clouds of pillows that cradle you. You watch his mouth and jaw work, and you realize that eating with Alfie may prove to be difficult, as you had seen that mouth move hungrily before, only between your legs. You giggle softly, never had you ever thought you could find relation with a piece of toast.

 

Alfies eyes flash up to you at your laughter and he licks his lips with a sly smile. You roll your eyes playfully and toss your head back, looking up at the ceiling. The mattress moves beside you and the tray next to you is replaced with Alfies sturdy frame.  

 

His hand reaches out over the blankets to your stomach, his thumb running back and forth over the span. “It can be easy to forget you need food when your time is occupied by much more interesting activities.” You smile and place your hand atop his.

 

You sit like that for a while, each of you full and lethargic from your meal. Your hands play with one and other, and Alfie asks you of your life before. You tell him about your family, about Serena, and Edward, and Charles, about your schooling, your friends, your extended family, Joseph, your favorite art museum. You talk about literature and art and the past and the future.

 

Alfie tells you about being raised by a single mother. Her escape from Russia and how she taught him to challenge opposition. Alfie spoke differently when he talked about his mother. His words were slower, more deliberately chosen. Or practiced perhaps, as though he had a single way of speaking of her and this was it. He tells you about when she passed, and for a moment he delves into feeling alone after she passed, but he only skims the surface of his experience and your give his hand a soft squeeze, assuring him it was okay.

 

You couldn’t expect all of Alfie’s walls to fall so quickly. You would even venture to guess that you were the first person in a long time to hear words like these from him, and you treasured each new piece of information like it was gold. Something had switched inside him, and you weren’t sure what, but you liked it, because whatever it was had opened a door to you.

 

You lay there and talk for what feels like hours, laying together, hands and fingers exploring one and others skin all the while. You knew it was coming, it had to, there would be a moment where you were back alone in your bed, without him. Days where he will be at the bakery and you would be without him. You wouldn’t leave his room at all if you could stay. Spend mornings reading, wrapped up in blankets that smelled of Alfie, the best substitute you could think of while he would be at work.

 

“Alfie,” You say at a lull in the conversation, and his head turns to look over at you.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Thank you.” He slides his hand into yours and squeeze gently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y’all like it! chapters coming a bit slower, midterms are keeping me busy. I also have another Alfie project in the works that i’m hoping to share soon! Thanks again for all the wornderful feedback andy comments! I am reading them in mmm just busy busy busy! 
> 
> much love!


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